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“ take a glass of something, tom.”— Page 100 



m %.c 





M 0 U T 11 . 


BT 

MISS MARY D WIN ELL CIIELLIS, 

»» 

AUTHOR OF ‘TEMPERANCE DOCTOR,’ ‘ OUT OF THE FIRE,’ ‘AUNT 
DINAH’S PLEDGE,’ ETC. 


>♦+ 



NEW YORK: 

National Temperance Society and Publication House, 

58 READE STREET. 



1372. 


a- 





Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1872, by 
J. N. STEARNS, 

In the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington, D. C. 


John Ross & Co., Printers, 27 Rose Street, New York, 


CONTEXTS 


PAGE 

CHAPTER I. 

Darkening Clouds and Breaking Hearts, - - - 9 

CHAPTER II. 

One Gleaming Light, One Dauntless Will, - 5S 

CHAPTER III. 

The Strongest and the Yilest must own God's Sov- 
ereign Power, - 103 


CHAPTER IY. 

Slowly hut surely God's Purposes are Wrought, - 153 


CHAPTER Y. 

The Darkest Way ofttimes shall Lead to Glorious Day, 205 


IV CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER YI. 

The Tempter and the Tempted must Each his Bur- 
dens hear, 


CHAPTER VII. 

Alone with God, the Guilty Soul dares Oder no Excuse 
for Sin, 


CHAPTER VIII. 


PAGE 


255 


303 


Joys are but Sweeter for the Sorrows Past, - 


35G 


At Lion’s Mouth. 


CHAPTER I. 

DARKENING CLOUDS AND BREAKING HEARTS. 

T was a dull, dreary day in Au- 
tumn. Tlie leafless trees stood 
sharply outlined against a dark, 
lowering sky, athwart which drift- 
ed heavy masses of threatening clouds. No 
ray of sunlight enlivened the gloom. The 
poor felt their poverty more keenly ; the 
sorrowing sorrowed more despairingly. 

To one poor woman this day seemed to 
have gathered in itself all the misery and 
wretchedness of her life. Alone, since early 
morning, in a hut which afforded slight pro- 



10 


DARKENING CLOUDS AND 


tectiou from tlie elements, slie became so 
restless that longer waiting was impossible. 

There was little of woman’s ordinary work 
to occupy her time : no beautifying her home ; 
no cooking, except as she prepared, in a 
rude way, the scanty food provided for a 
single meal. Occasionally her husband or 
son demanded her services to repair some old 
garment; but never a piece of sewing, the 
accomplishment of which would bring her 
nearer to some desired good. The fire was 
out, and there was nothing with which to 
replenish it. She drew around her shoul- 
ders a coarse woollen shawl, tied a faded 
cotton handkerchief over her abundant gray 
hair, and, taking . a basket, went out to look 
for chips. 

Jim Magee’s hut was near a large river, 
on the banks of which, a mile distant, hum- 
med and wrought the machinery of a score 
of mills. There was work for all who de- 
sired good, honest labor; abundance of food, 
and pleasant, cheerful homes. The woman 


BREAKING HEARTS. 


11 


looked towards tlie city, wishing vaguely 
that she might have some share in its pros- 
perity. Then she walked on, stopping oc- 
casionally to brush aside a heap of leaves, 
or peer into some water - worn gnlly, 
snatching with eager hand the smallest 
twig or bit of wood. 

A scrap of old newspaper fluttered before 
her. She w r as never much of a reader, and 
for years had seldom looked into a book ; 
but now, for want of other objects of at- 
tention, she picked up the paper, seated her- 
self at the foot of an old willow, and began 
to read. Perhaps I should say she attempt- 
ed to spell out the w'ords; for, in reality, 
she found it difficult to do even this. For- 
tunately, there was one story complete, so 
short and simple that she was able to com- 
prehend it. A little girl had been the 
means of leading her parents to a better 
life ; and so engrossed was the reader, that 
she did not notice the approach of a young 
man, until he called sharply, “ Come home, 


12 


DARKENING CLOUDS AND 


mother. There’s somebody there. Don’t 
stop to ask questions, but come along.” 

The woman rose quickly, concealed the 
paper in the folds of her dress, and followed 
her son. At the door, he looked in, then 
waited for her to come up. “I’ve got into 
trouble,” he said, in a low tone. “We had 
a bit of a row, and I threw a stone that hit 
a little girl, instead of a fellow I meant it 
should. She’s hurt bad, but there ain’t no 
bones broke. I asked Patsy to find out, 
and she’s sure. I brought her home.” 

“What for, Tom?” asked his mother 
absently. “We liain't got nothing for our- 
selves. Where’s her home ?” 

“ Hain’t got none. Worse otf than we be. 
Father’s jugged for ten years; and the 
woman she’s lived with -wouldn’t have her. 
Said, if I didn’t take her out the way, she’d 
call a p’leeceman.” 

“Will she die, Tom?” 

“ ’Tain’t likely. Such don’t die easy. 
If she should, though — ” 


BREAKING HEARTS. 


18 

“ You’d be the one that killed her,” add- 
ed his mother, completing the sentence. 
“ llow’d you get her here ?” 

“ She walked part the way ; then she 
kind of fainted, and I brought her the rest. 
I tell you, she’d be pretty if she was clean. 
Patsy said she’d come over and see about 
doctoring her up. I guess you’ll get along 
together first-rate.” 

“ But we hain’t got no wood, nor no vic- 
tuals. Then your father?” 

“lie’s off down the river, for a month 
or two. Told me to tell you. Somebody’s 
hired him. Shouldn’t brought her if he 
was- going to be round.” 

Within, upon a scantily covered straw bed, 
the injured child lay, staring vacantly at the 
smoke-blackened avails, and wondering if she 
would be allowed to remain in this poor 
place through the night. The stone 
thrown by Tom Magee had struck her ’right 
arm above the elbow, inflicting a severe 
bruise. Its force was nearly spent before 


u 


DARKENING CLOUDS AND 


reaching her, else the result would have 
been serious. As it was, she had fallen 
heavily upon the rough pavement, more 
from • weakness and fright than any other 
cause. 

Homeless aud friendless, when a young 
man raised her in his arms, expressing sin- 
cere sorrow for the accident, the kind 
words were so welcome that she freely for- 
gave him. This young man was not ac- 
customed to hearing or speaking kind words. 

lie could remember when his mother 
would lay her hand upon his head, and call 
him her “ dear boy.” But that was long 
ago, before he had grown hard, and rough, 
and cruel; before the innocent look of child- 
hood had gone from his face, and the ten- 
derness from his heart. 

Duke Moran had been arrested for rob 
bery, tried, found guilty, and sentenced to 
ten years’ hard labor in the State prison. 
He was a brutal, savage fellow, who had 
abused his wife until death came to her 


* BREAKING HEARTS. 


15 


release, and ill-treated liis little daughter, 
although she clung to him with the most 
devoted fondness. lie had been away now 
six weeks, and the child crept about dream- 
ily, receiving food from one and another, 
while she slept in a corner of a room for- 
merly occupied by her father. Only that 
morning she had been told that she could not 
stay there another night, and all day she 
had been wishing she could go to her 
mother. It was little she knew of her 
Heavenly Father ; but she needed help ; 
and so, in her ignorant way, she asked God 
to help her. Doubt not her prayer was 
answered; for surely some new influence 
moved Tom Magee to pity. Ordinarily, he 
would have rushed away when danger 
threatened. He might have killed little 
Kate Moran ; and this thought was upper- 
most in his mind when he sprang towards 
her. When told that no one would give 
her shelter, he asked if she would go home 
with him. “ Yes,” she answered, “I’ll go 


10 


DARKENING CLOUDS AND 


anywhere.” “Sure, why shouldn’t she?” 
said an Irish woman standing near. “ She’s 
nobody belonging to her, now Duke’s shut 
up” 

“ Take her out of the way, or we’ll have 
you ’rested ! ” now exclaimed the woman 
who had promised Duke that she would 
look after his child. “ Take her along with 
you, and don’t bring her back.” 

By this time a crowd began to gather, 
.and, Kate having somewhat recovered from 
her fall, Tom Magee asked her to follow 
him. She walked very slowly, yet still 
struggled on until they were beyond the 
city limits, when she fell, and, as he told 
his mother, he carried her the remainder of 
the way. lie stopped for a little to talk 
with Patsy Quinn, an old woman who 
lived at what was called Lion’s Mouth, 
where a branch of the river went eddying 
in and out among some venerable willows. 
Patsy was quite an oracle, in her way ; and 
the young man was greatly relieved when 


BREAKING HEARTS. 


17 


told that Kate Moran would “ come round 
all riglit.” 

As Mrs. Magee went in to make the ac- 
quaintance of the child so strangely brought 
to her home, a quivering voice murmured : 
“ Don’t send me away. I’m so tired, and 
so hungry, I can’t go; and my arm hurts 
me, oh ! so bad.” 

“Ho, dear, I won’t send you away,” was 
the reply. “You shall stay and get rested; 
and perhaps I’ll keep you for my little 
girl.” 

“Will you give me something to eat? 
Please do, I’m so hungry.” 

“ I’ll fetch something,” said Tom, dart- 
ing from the house. lie was almost at 
Lion’s Mouth, when he met their neighbor, 
carrying a tin pail and a bundle of herbs. 
“Where now?” she asked. “Anything the 
matter ? ” 

“I’m after something to eat. The child’s 
hungry, and must eat.” 

“ I know it,” was the quick response, 


18 


DARKENING CLOUDS AND 


“ as bad off for being hungry as she is for 
being hurt. I’ve got something for her here 
in my pail ; so you needn’t go down the 
river, and like as not come back drunk.” 

u I ain’t going down the river, Patsy 
Quinn. "What made you think of that?” 

. “ I can tell what lads like you think most 
of,” said the old woman. u It’s just the 
drink — curse it ! and curse them that sells 
it ! ” she added, with bitter emphasis. Then 
she relapsed into silence, while her compa- 
nion strode on before her. He had money 
in his pocket, which he would have spent for 
liquor but for the new responsibility he had 
assumed, and Patsy’s caution was not ill-timed. 

“Well, Mis Magee, you and I’ve got a 
job on hand, it seems,” said the neighbor, 
laying her bundle of herbs on an old pine 
table. <£ I’ve brought some good medicine 
for little girls,” she continued, going into 
the bedroom. “ Here’s some bread.” 

The proffered food was snatched eagerly 
without one murmured thank ; and as soon 


BREAKING hearts. 


19 


as it was eaten, a tliin hand was extended 
for more. A second slice seemed scarcely 
less welcome than the first. 

“ Now, stop awhile in the eating, and let’s 
see what I can do for your arm,” said Patsy 
cheerfully. “Does it ache?” 

u Yes, ma’am. But the bread was so good 
I ’ipost forgot the ache. Can’t I have 
another piece, to-day?” 

“ To-day ! ” repeated the woman, tears 
standing in her eyes. “To be sure you can. 
You can have some this minute. It’s dread- 
ful to be hungry; I know by experience.. 
But now, thank God! I’ve enough. We 
must have some fire here. There’s plenty 
of cut wood in Riley’s yard. If you’ve got 
a quarter, Tom Magee, you’d better go down 
and buy some. Take it up in a hand-cart, and 
you will save something. Will you do it?” 

“Yes. And hadn’t I better get some 
flour ? ” 

“'Get some bread, and be quick about 
it. The wind blows through this old shell 


20 


DARKENING CLOUDS AND 


like it would through a sieve ; and that 
child ought to be kept warm. You want 
her to get well.” 

“ Perhaps I’ll go to mother,” murmured 
little Kate. “I asked God to let me, or 
else send somebody to take care of me. 
Don’t you think he heard ? Mother said 
he always hears us when we ask liiu^’ 

“ Likely he does, then,” was the cold 
reply. “Any way, you’ll he took care of; 
so you needn’t worry.” 

“ She said perhaps I might he her little 
girl,” rejoined the child, looking to Mrs. 
Magee, who watched her anxiously. “lie 
said he’d take care of me, too — that man 
that hurt me ; lie didn’t mean to.” 

“ I can’t do much without a fire,” re- 
marked Patsy, taking a survey of the 
cheerless room. “ We must have some 
hot water, and my herbs must he steeped. 
Get the stove ready for a fire ’gainst the 
wood comes, and get out the kittles.” 

Mrs. Magee, glad to be told what to do, 


BREAKING HEARTS. 


21 


at once set about clearing tlie stove of 
ashes. Then she brought forward an old 
tin tea-kettle and an iron skillet, these two 
articles comprising the better part of her 
cooking utensils. Sooner than could have been 
expected, Tom returned with a hand-cart full 
of wood, a loaf of bread, and some crackers. 

“It didn’t take much money, Tom?” 

“Hot much,” he answered, smiling grim- 
ly; “not half I thought ’twould. I prom- 
ised to go back with the cart.” 

“ Got any money left \ ” He displayed 
a handful of pennies. “Then get some tea 
for your mother, and see how it will seem 
to make her comfortable. What with you 
and your father, she has an awful life. You 
see, I know how ’tis. She’d rather die 
than live.” 

“I’ll get some tea,” replied Tom; “you 
may depend on that. Guess I’ve had li- 
quor enough for one day. Any way, I’ll 
make it do.” 

• A good fire soon burned in the rusty 


22 


DARKENING CLOUDS AND 


stove, and little Ivate Moran enjoyed tlie 
luxury of a warm batli ; after which she 
was w T rapped in a garment entitled to the 
one merit of being clean. Others might 
have laughed at her grotesque appearance ; 
but she was satisfied. Some hot herbs 
were bound upon her arm, and then she 
was left to sleep. 

“ Kow, just eat a little yourself, Mis 
Magee,” urged Patsy Quinn. “ I know 
you’re hungry, or you would be if you 

wa’n’t so discouraged.” 

“ What’s to hinder my being discour- 
aged ! ” was the reply. “ Things grow worse 
and worse. Tom says his father’s gone. 

And that girl — I don’t see what made Tom 
fetch her here. Kot but what I’d like to 
have her, if we had anything to live 

on. She makes me think of little Mary. 
I thought ’twould kill me when she died; 
but now I’m glad she’s out of the way.” 

“ Don’t talk that way, Mis Magee. I 
can’t bear it. I try not to remember 


BREAKING HEARTS. 


23 


what’s happened to me. I just want to 
think I’ve always been old Patsy Quinn, 
not a year younger than I am now. Mis 
Magee, do you mind that you was a young 
thing once, like that one in there ? ” 

“Yes, and ’most as bad off. Father was 
a drunkard ; so I didn’t have much but 
hard times when I was a girl. I worked, 
and he took ’most all my wages. Since 
I’ve been married to Jim, things hain’t been 
much better. When Tom was a baby, I 
used to be happier than I ever was before; 
but lie’s no good to me now. If I wa’n’t 
afraid of what’s beyond, I’d throw myself 
into the river.” 

“ Don’t do that, Mis Magee ; it’s a long 
road that has no turn — just remember that ! 
And then, this has been a dreadful discour- 
aging day. I’ve been ’most discouraged my- 
self ; though I hadn’t ought to be — I’m 
sure of a living as long as I can work. 
I’ve more washing than I know how to do; 
and they’re always wanting me in the mill.” 


DARKENING CLOUDS AND 


21 


“ Yes,” answered lier companion. “ But 
yon see it ain’t no use for me to work. 
Jim would take every cent I earned.” 

“lie’s gone, now.” 

“Yes, but lie’ll be back. lie 'would if 
I got tilings a little more comfortable; I’ve 
tried it. lie won’t have that child here no 
way, wlien lie comes. You ought to know 
better than to fetch her.” 

“ Tom couldn’t help it very well,” answer- 
ed Patsy. “ He’s been in a good many fights, 
and made a good many enemies. There’s 
enough that would be glad to see him in 
trouble. ’-T wouldn’t took much to finish 
that child when he found her. She’s been 
abused and half starved. I’ve heard her 
mother was a good woman ; but Duke’s 
the very devil when lie’s been drinking. 
He won’t get half he deserves in ten years. 
It’s a good thing for his child that lie’s 
out of the way; though folks say, sometimes 
he made everything of her.” 

So the two women talked on, while the 


BREAKING HEARTS. 


25 


child slept. • “ Tom’s coming,” at length 
said the visitor. u You’d better try and 
make things a little comfortable. Perhaps 
he won’t go off again to-night if you do. 
It’s going to be a lonesome night. I’m ex- 
pecting rain.” 

Tom came in, and, taking two small pack- 
ages from his pocket, threw them into, his 
mother’s lap, saying, “ There’s some tea and 
some sugar. You can have a cup of tea, 
and I guess I should like some, too. You 
needn’t be afraid to use all you want. I’m 
going to work to-morrow, and I’ll get some 
more. Ilain’t . got a cent left. IIow’s 
Kate ? ” 

“ Past asleep,” was the answer to this 
question. “ Tell you what, Tom, I’ve a 
notion of taking that little girl to live with 
me. I can do better by her than you will, 
and she needs a good deal done for her.” 

“ It’ll take two to make that bargain, 
and perhaps three,” was the reply. 

“ Why ? What’s come over you, Tom ? 


26 


DARKENING CLOUDS AND 


She’s got to have something to eat, and 
’tain’t much your mother has to spare, these 
days. I’d bring her round well quicker 
than you will.” 

“See here, Patsy,” exclaimed the young 
man, “ what are you driving at ? I’m able 
to earn enough for us all. I fetched her 
home, and she’ll stay here.” 

“To be sure, Tom. Everybody says you 
can work like a tiger; but the drink’s the 
trouble. When it gets down your throat, 
there’s the devil to pay, and nothing for 
baker or butcher. That’s how ’tis.” 

Mrs. Magee, who was engaged in prepar- 
ing supper, watched the two furtively, ex- 
pecting to hear angry words from her son, 
and wishing that her neighbor would talk 
differently. Patsy, however, felt no mis- 
givings. She had once rendered Tom 
Magee a signal service, and was therefore 
privileged. 

“ Set down, and drink some tea with us,” 
at length said the poor woman. 


BREAKING HEARTS. 


27 


“Yes, set down,” urged Tom, “there’s 
enough for all. Give Kate some, too, and 
a cracker.” 

But the child was asleep; and just then 
sleep was better for her than tea or crack- 
ers. An hour later, as the darkness of 
night was closing round them, mother and 
son were left alone. 

“We don’t often have such a lire,” re- 
marked Mrs. Magee, extending her hands 
to catch the genial warmth. 

“ Ko,” was the answer given. “We 
ought to, though. It’s bad enough here 
with a lire. The cracks grow wider, and 
to-night the wind blows like mad. Father 
went ’cause things are so bad.” 

“ They might be better. He's the one 
to blame,” said his wife. “I’d work if 
’t would do any good. We’ll be flooded 
’fore morning,” she added, as the flrst drops 
of rain beat against the windows. “Patsy’s 
got home by this time. I’m glad of that. 
She’s a good neighbor. I don’t know what 


28 


DARKENING CLOUDS AND 


we’d done without her; and I don’t know 
what we’ll do any way. Your father might 
come back any time, and then — ■” 

“Tliere’d be a row,” carelessly added the 
son. “ There ain’t no love lost between us, 
any time ; and to-day he tried to bully me 
out of what money I had. He didn’t get 
it, though, and it’s lucky all round he didn’t.” 
“ Do you believe he’ll stay away ? ” 

“ Yes,” answered Tom with an oath. 
“ There ain’t nothing for him here, and he’ll 
try a new place till he gets sick of that. 
We’d move out of this old place, if ’twa’n’t 
for fishing; and, besides, there’s more elbow 
room. There’s some good, being this side.” 

“ What you going to do to-morrow ? ” 
asked Mrs. Magee. 

“ Work for Riley. lie’s got a hard job 
on hand, and promised good pay.” .As the 
young man talked, he stopped now and then 
to listen for a sound from the bedroom. 
“She won’t die, mother?” he said. 

“She don’t look like it,” .was the reply. 


BREAKING HEARTS. 


29 


It was dull business for Tom Magee, 
sitting there with only his mother for com- 
pany, and a vague dread of evil overshadow- 
ing him. “ I wish I had something to 
read,” he exclaimed impatiently. “ There 
ain’t so much as a scrap of newspaper in 
the house.” 

“Yes, there is,” responded his mother, 
“just a scrap. I found it out-doors to-day, 
but I couldn’t read it very well. Wish 
you’d read it to me.” 

“Let’s have it, then,” said Tom ungra- 
ciously. “I guess it’s a goodish story,” he 
remarked, after he had lighted a candle and 
glanced at the paper. “’Tain’t my sort, 
but I’ll read it to. you. Want to keep it?” 
he asked, after the reading was ended. 
“ That little girl was some like Kate. 
Let’s have some more fire. It’s the black- 
est night we’ve had, this fall. We’ll be 
afloat if it keeps on at this rate.” 

The evening seemed long to these people, 
who knew the lapse of time only by the 


30 


DARKENING CLOUDS AND 


ringing of tlie city bells. At nine o’clock, 
Tom went up some lialf-broken stairs into 
a small, unfinished garret, where he threw 
himself upon a bed, and endeavored to 
sleep. More entirely free from the influence 
of liquor than he had been at night for 
many months, he could not but reflect upon 
the strange events of the day. Then the story 
which he had just read, so unlike his usual 
reading. This .was intended to teach some 
religious truth, and he knew absolutely no- 
thing of religion. Except that in school he 
had read a few verses from the Bible, as 
a part of regular school exercise, he did 
not remember of ever opening the Iloly 
Book. The Sabbath was to him as other 
days, while he profaned the name of God 
without thought of his sin. “You’ll end 
your life in State’s prison or on the gallows,” 
had been said to him more than once ; and 
there certainly seemed good reason for the 
prediction. lie laughed derisively; yet he 
had been suspected of many petty thefts, 


BREAKING HEARTS. 


31 


and lie knew that no one would trust him. 
These were not pleasant reflections in his 
present mood. 

Mrs. Magee lay down beside the sleeping 
child, and, weary as she was, was soon ob- 
livious of all which had transpired. Her 
son was moving about the kitchen when 
she awoke, and the early bells had already 
rung out their call. 

Tom’s first enquiry was for the child. 
“ You’ll take good care of her, won’t you, 
inother?” he said. “It’s been pouring rain 
every minute since I went up-stairs last 
night, and ’twouldn’t be strange if Hiley’s 
yard’s under water. There’s water enough 
on the floor to wash it, and ’twouldn’t 
hurt us to be a little cleaner. Guess 
you’ve got enough to eat to-day, and I’ll 
be back by dark.” 

It w r as early for Tom Magee to be out, 
but Patsy Quinn was watching for him, 
and, to escape the rain, he went into her 
house while lie answered her questions. 


32 DARKENING CLOUDS AND 

“ Drink some coffee,” she said, pouring a 
generous quantity into a bowl. “ I can’t 
afford sugar and milk, but it’s liot, and 
’twill do you good — more good than the 
stuff that generally goes down your throat. 
Why don’t you swear off, and see what 
you can do? You might be somebody.” 

“ Ain’t I somebody now ? ” 

u You’re old Jim Magee’s boy, getting to 
be worse than the old man, and going 
straight to the devil!” 

“ You’ve made a mistake, I’m going to 
.Riley’s wood-yard,” responded Tom, with 
an attempt to be facetious. 

“The devil keeps open shop just be- 
yond,” retorted Patsy. “You’ll be there 
within an hour.” 

“ Sure of it, are you ? 1 can keep out 

if I’m a mind to.” 

“ Perhaps you could, and perhaps you 
couldn’t. Folks say that, when anybody gets 
started drinking as you have, they have 
to keep on, whether they want to or not.” 


BREAKING HEARTS. 


33 


“ That’s a lie ! ” exclaimed Tom, empha- 
sizing his assertion with an o-atli. “ Needn’t 
anybody tell this child he can’t stop drink- 
ing liquor just any time.” 

“Then stop for to-day, and see how you 
make out.” 

“ I will ! ” Another oath sealed the prom- 
ise. “ I’ll be round about dark, and let you 
see what I’ve earned ; going to carry it 
all home to the old woman and the baby.” 

Laughing coarsely, as he said this, he 
went out into the storm ; and his friend 
had forgotten to ask for little Kate Moran. 

“ Never mind,” she soliloquized, “I’ve 
give him some hits, and may be ’twas in 
the right Way. If he don’t drink to-day, 
all the better for Mis Magee. I’ll try and 
find time to run up there.” 

A bowl of coffee, a slice of bread, and 
some cold meat furnished a sumptuous 
breakfast for the poor woman, and then 
she commenced her daily task. Allowing 
herself no rest at noon, she gained time for 


34 


DARKENING CLOUDS AND 


a call to her neighbor np the river. It 
had ceased i*aining, though the wind still 
continued to blow; yet she heeded neither 
the heavy mud nor the pools of water that 
lay in her path — she was intent only upon 
reaching her destination. 

A child’s face was pressed to the window 
as she came in sight, and the door was 
opened for her before she could lift the latch. 

“TJp and dressed!” she exclaimed, speak- 
ing to little Kate Moran. “I didn’t ex- 
pect to see you dressed for a week. IIow 
do you feel, to-day?” 

“ Better, ma’am.” 

“I’m afraid she ain’t much better,” said 
Mrs. Magee ; “ but 'she got tired staying in 
the bedroom, so I fixed her up by the 
window, where she could look out, though 
I don’t know wlpit she’d see. She won’t 
take cold, will she?” 

“ Guess there’s no£d anger ; but it’s always 
best to be careful. Does your arm ache?” 
she asked, turning to the child. 


BREAKING HEARTS. 


35 


“Yes, ma’am, some; but I’m warm, and I 
ain’t hungry. Slie gave me bread and crack- 
ers, all I wanted.” 

“And did you have some for yourself, 
Mis Magee?” 

“ All I wanted,” was the reply. “ I liain’t 
been much hungry to-day. I’ve kept round 
to work most the time.” 

“I should know you had. Things look 
more comfortable than they did yesterday; 
and you’ve washed all Kate’s clothes. Kow, 
if you’d paste some paper over the cracks, 
’t wouldn’t take , so much wood to keep you 
warm. That’s what I do, and save wood. 
I’ve been thinking about you all day, and • 
hurried so I could get time to come up. 

I guess that little girl better go to bed, or 
else set up here by the stove.” 

“She read to me,” said Mrs. Magee, after 
the child was comfortably seated near the 
stove. “She reads ’most as well as Tom, 
and I like to hear her.” 

“ What did she read ? ” 


36 


DARKENING CLOUDS AND 


“My story. I picked it up out-doors, 
yesterday.” 

Then Patsy must needs hear, and again 
Kate read the simple story, so fraught with 
instruction. “Strange how you come to be 
such a scholar ! ” This was the comment 
made ; but it w r as not this which brought 
tears to the eyes of the listener. “ Ever 
been to school?” 

“Hot many days,” was the reply. “Moth- 
er told me the letters before she died, and 
I’ve got some books like this paper would 
be folded up. A lady gave them to me, 
but I can’t make out all the words.” 

There was some further conversation, after 
which the little reader confessed herself 
tired, and gladly lay down to sleep. 

“How’s gone the day?” then asked Patsy 
Quiii n. 

“I don’t know,” was the answer of her 
companion; “I can’t quite make out. 
Things seem strange, and I’m afraid what’ll 
happen when Tom comes. He’s ’most as 


BREAKING HEARTS. 


37 


bad as Jim when lie’s been drinking; and 
there mustn’t no harm come to Kate Moran 
while she’s here. I wish you’d take her.” 

“ I would, Mis Magee ; but, you see, Tom 
won’t give her up as he feels now. I’ll be 
ready, though, to step in if anything liajDpens. 
You’d miss her.” 

“ Yes ; but I’d rather she’d go ’fore I git 
my heart set on her. She’s just like a baby, 
she’s so good. Like the story. I can’t say it, 
Patsy, but may be you know what I mean. 
I’m all stirred up in my feelings, and seems as 
though I 'was waiting for something to hap- 
pen.” 

Her friend made no reply to this. These 
poor women, wholly unaccustomed to the 
analysis of their feelings, lacked words to 
describe the new emotions which moved 
them. They could, however, sympathize 
with each other, and the silence was not 
irksome. 

“ If I can’t do anything for you, I guess 
l’d better go,” at length said the visitor, 


38 


DARKENING CLOUDS AND 


“I want to be home ’fore dark. And 
mind, Mis Magee, when Tom comes, don’t 
talk discouraging. Praise him if he brings 
anything ; and don’t find fault if he don’t. 
Boys like to be praised ; and lie’s only a lad, 
for all his size. Yon mind what I say.” 

“ Yes ; but likely I won’t see Tom to- 
night.” 

Hot see Tom ! Indeed she would. lie was 
at the door of Patsy Quinn’s house when 
she came in sight, and directly she shouted, 
“ Good for you, my lad. .What’s in your 
cart ?” 

“Wood, and things to eat. I’ve worked 
like two' niggers, and got all I’ve earned 
with me.” 

“ Good again, my lad ; come in, and I’ll 
give you more coffee. Had you anything to 
drink since morning ?” 

“ Cold water, and not a drop of anything 
stronger. I told you, and I’ve kept my 
word. Been up to the old house?” 

“ Yes ; all’s right. That girl won’t die yet 


BREAKING HEARTS. 


39 


awhile. If your father comes home, bring 
her to me, will you?” 

“ I’(l have to,” was the reply. “ The old 
man’s ugly, and she ain't going to be abused 
by him or anybody else.” 

“ That’s right, Tom. Won’t you have the 
coffee ?” 

“No; I’ll push along home.” And, suiting 
the action to the word, the young man moved 
on. 

“ Ilain’t drinked a drop,” said Patsy Quinn, 
half aloud. “ ’Twa’n’t no use to coax him, I 
knew that, and didn’t expect the other way’d 
work. But he liain’t drinked a drop. I 
mind when my boy — ” Here the speaker 
drew one hand across her forehead, looked 
vacantly up and down the river, and then 
entered her lonely dwelling. 

At the same time, Mrs. Magee was watch- 
ing, anxiously waiting, as she had said, for 
something to happen. A slight sound from 
the bedroom called her attention, and scarce- 
ly had she returned to the- window when 


40 


DARKENING CLOUDS AND 


Tom appeared. “Pm glad you’ve come,” 
slie said, as lie entered. 

“ IIow is slie ?” lie asked, as tliongli there 
was but one person in the world to whom 
this pronoun could he applied. “ She ain’t 
going to die?” 

“Hot this time. She’s better, all but her 
arm ; and she ain’t hungry nor cold. Please, 
man, won’t you come here ?” 

Tom waited for no second summons. Pie 
was gazing down into the sweet, pale face of 
Kate Moran, when she said, “I’m ever so 
much better, and you was ever so good to 
bring me here. Your mother’s took care of 
me all day, and my arm don’t hurt much 
now. Ain’t you a good man ?” 

“Guess not,” was the answer to this ques- 
tion. “If Pd been good, I shouldn’t hurt 
you.” 

“But you was sorry for that. Mother said, 
when w r e was sorry, God forgives us. You 
tell God, and he’ll forgive you.” 

“A sermon, and the very queerest preach* 


BREAKING HEARTS. 


41 


er,” tlionglit Tom. “Wouldn’t the boys laugh 
if they heard her!” 

“You’ll let me stay here, won’t you? I’ll 
work real hard if you’ll let me, and I won’t 
eat but little. I won’t cost much.” 

Such pleading ! For a moment the heart of 
the young man was tender as a woman’s ; while, 
in tones modulated to strange gentleness, he 
assured the child that he would care for her. 

“You’re so good,” she murmured, in her 
simplicity ; while he knew that he was a vile, 
wicked wretch. 

“ Never done no good in all my life. 
Ain’t fit to look at her. No, I ain’t. 
Old Jim Magee’s boy ; dirty, ragged, 
and saucy. Guess if God ever made such a 
boy, lie’s forgot it before now. Wonder how 
’twould seem to live like other folks !” 

At this point in his soliloquy, a low, musi- 
cal whistle escaped his lips, and Kate asked, 
“Was that you whistled?” 

“ I suppose ’twas,” he replied. “ I didn’t 
mean to.” 


42 


DARKENING CLOUDS AND 


“ Didn’t? It sounded ’most like a bird. I 
had a bird once, in a cage, before mother 
died. He could whistle.” 

Again the weary eyes closed, and Tom 
went into the kitchen, where liis mother was 
doing her best to prepare a comfortable sup- 
per from very scanty materials. 

“ Hold on !” he exclaimed, “ we’ll have 
something better than what you’ve got there. 
I’ve got some meat and a peck of potatoes. 
We’ll have a bully supper. I’m hungry’s a 
bear, but I’ll wait for the meat. There’s 
enough for breakfast, too ; and, to-morrow, 
I’ll bring some more. I’m going to work. 
If the old man won’t show himself for six 
months, w T e might live like other folks.” 

“ Why, Tom, my boy !” The poor woman 
could say no more, as she examined the 
several parcels which w T ere placed before her. 
“ Where’ d you get so much?” 

“Bought it, and paid for it all, to-day. 
Been to work every minute.” 

Just then was heard a prolonged hoot, 


l 


BREAKING HEARTS. 


43 


which simple people would have accredited 
to the ill-omened bird of night, but which 
Tom Ivlagee recognized as the signal-call of 
liis boon companions. In his vague aspira- 
tions for a better life, he had quite forgotten 
“ The Owls,” of which he was a prominent 
member. lie had been missed from his ac- 
customed haunts, and must give an account 
of himself; perhaps, also, he was expected 
to join a drunken orgy, or assist in the per- 
petration of some crime. The hoot was 
repeated. 

“ That ain’t no owl,” said his mother. 

“Guess not,” was the reply; “it’s some of 
them fools over the river. Wish they’d 
mind their business. I want my supper.” 

“ Ain’t you going to eat it ?” 

“Yes; so go ahead with your cooking. 
I’ll have to go, but I’ll come back if I’m 
alive.” And, muttering a succession of oaths, 
he left the house. 

“Who’s here?” he asked, in a surly tone. 

“ I myself,” answered a familiar voice. 


u 


DARKENING CLOUDS AND 


'“What you want?” 

“Want you. The hoys are on the other 
side.. There’s fun ahead, and we want you 
to take your share. If owls keep close all 
day, they come out at night. You’re an 
Owl.” 

Of course, this communication was inter- 
larded with oaths, but its profanity w T as tole- 
rable compared, with that of the response. 
The two continued to talk in much the same 
strain; and, at length, a coarse joke was ven- 
tured in regard to Kate Moran. Then Tom’s 
anger was fully aroused, and as a matter of 
safety the offender retreated. 

“You refuse to meet ‘The Owls’?” 

“ I do refuse to meet ‘ The Owls,’ ” an- 
swered Tom, with a fearful imprecation. 
“ They can do what they’re a mind to about 
it. I’ll fight the whole bilin of ’em any time 
when they’re ready. Kow be off with you, 
or I’ll pitch you intb the water, neck and 
heels.” 

The dipping of oars assured the speaker 


BREAKING HEARTS. 


45 


that his last argument had not been without 
effect. 

“ Settled for once/’ was the comment. 
u There’ll be a row, but they won’t be 
back to-night. I’ve put a flea in one Owl’s 
ear. Patsy heard the hoot, and she’ll be on 
the lookout. Wonder where her boy is? 
Wonder, too, what’s come to this boy? 
Didn’t Kate hit wide when she talked about 
my being good? Wonder what I brought 
her home for? Fool for doing it, and get 
myself into a scrape. What’s come over me? 
Can’t be Pm the Big Owl? Wish somebody’d 
tell me wliat’s the matter ; Patsy might do 
it. She’s smart, and if she does know all about 
me, ’tain’t no matter. She’s a good one to keep 
a secret. If she hadn’t, I’d seen trouble.” 

Mrs. Magee opened the door to look out, 
and this reminded her son of the supper she 
was preparing. Acting upon the advice she 
had received, she spread her table as neatly 
as possible, and made the best display of 
the scanty furniture. 


46 


DARKENING CLOUDS AND 


“ Seems to me tilings look better’n com- 
mon, mother. Guess you’ve been slickin’ 
up.” 

“ Yes,” was the mother’s reply to this wel- 
come appreciation of her efforts. “ I’ve been 
to work. Patsy says we ought to paste paper 
over the cracks and make it warmer.” 

“ Guess she’s right. She most always is. 
She’s going to take her when the old man 
comes. If I ain’t here, tell her to run 
straight for Lion’s Mouth. If it’s in the 
night, put her out the bedroom wdndow, and 
I’ll take her. Wish he was in the bottom of 
the river.” 

“ Don’t, Tom, that’s wicked. Wish he’d 
do better.” 

“ ’Tain’t no use. There ain’t a worse sot 
than Jim Magee. Guess lie’s one of the 
sort that can’t stop or won't stop.” 

Tom w r as talking strangely for one like 
him ; and his mother, not knowing how to 
reply, was silent. The thought of her hus- 
band brought back the gloom and despond- 


BREAKING HEARTS. 


47 


ency wliicli usually oppressed lier. She fear- 
ed liis return, and in her heart echoed the 
wish she had condemned as wicked. Yet 
she did not give expression to her fears. 
Supper was placed on the table, and eaten 
with evident relish. 

“ How, I’d go down and see Patsy if ’twan’t 
for leaving you alone,” said the young man; 
and, observing a look of incredulity upon his 
mother’s face, he added, “ I wouldn’t go any- 
where else. That Owl went over the river 
with his wings spread. lie won’t be back 
to-night. Want I should stay with you ?” 

“Yes, Tom; I’m dreadful lonesome. I’m 
afraid, too. Seems as though some thing’ d 
happen.” 

The seeming proved a reality. These 
words were hardly spoken when the door 
opened, and Jim Magee entered. “ Glad 
you’ve got some supper,” was his gruff salu- 
tation. “ Start ' round, old woman, and 
bring on the best you’ve got. Thought I’d 
come home and make a visit. Hit on a 


48 


DARKENING- CLOUDS AND 


good time. Fine doings, wlien I’m gone. 
Let’s liave some meat ; and the quicker the 
better.” Having thus insulted his wife, 
he addressed his son, in a tone no less of- 
fensive. “I’ll take that money, now, and 
teach you better manners when I’ve had 
my supper.” 

“Ho, you won’t,” was the reply. “I’ve 
had enough of your manners. Best thing 
you can do is to mind your own business. 
I’m able to take care of myself.” 

“We’ll see about that.” 

“Yes, we’ll see.” 

Glances were exchanged between mother 
and son, the latter placing his chair against 
the bedroom door. There was no alternative 
but to bring forward the stores intended 
for another day. Refusal would only ex- 
asperate the hungry man. When he was 
seated at the table, eating ravenously, Tom left 
the house. Mrs. Magee understood what was 
expected of her, and presently little Kate 
Moran was placed in the arms of her son. 


BREAKING HEARTS. 


4;) 


“ Don’t be afraid,” lie whispered, “I’ll 
take care of yon. ” And, wrapping a shawl 
closely about her, he hastened to a place of 
safety. “Here, Patsy,” he exclaimed, when 
this was reached. “AVe’ve got company 
at our house. The old man’s come, and I 
must go straight back. I’ll bring her clothes. 
Tell her, so she’ll know. ’T won’t do for me 
to stop.” 

“ That owl hooted for you, Tom.” 

“ S’pose it did ; but ’twon’t hoot again, 
this side, to-night.” 

lie was gone; and there sat the child, 
glancing around, as though seeking ac- 
quaintance with her new surroundings. 

“Be you cold?” asked her companion. 

“Ho, ma’am. I ain’t hungry, neither. But 
what made that man bring me away from his 
house?” This question was answered frankly 
to Kate’s comprehension. “ I know,” she 
said, with a sigh. “I’ve seen folks so.” 

It was well that Tom Magee returned 
quickly, else he might have been mother- 


50 


DARKENING CLOUDS AND 


less, and liis father a murderer. A violent 
altercation ensued ; but liis defiant manner 
won the victory. 

A long night was that which followed. 
JSTewly formed resolves were nearly aban- 
doned, as one disheartening thought after 
another presented itself. What good in 
trying to do well ? Why not go on, and 
let the worst come, if it would? Up to 
this time, the young man had never thought 
of abandoning entirely the use of intoxicat- 
ing liquor. It was only to drink less; to 
work more, dress better,' and live like other 
people, lie was sixteen years of age; in 
point of law, subject to liis father, who 
could claim his wages. Ko use to work, 
and have it all go down the old man’s 
throat. Winter was at hand, and his 
mother for some reason — he thought tenderly 
of his mother — must be provided with many 
comforts. Kate Moran, too. The woman 
who had received her must not be left to 
furnish her support. 


BREAKING HEARTS. * 


51 


In his unrest, lie would have drunk to 
bring forgetfulness ; but, fortunately, there 
was not a drop of liquid poison in the 
house. Ilis throat was parched with 
thirst, and he awoke to a consciousness of 
’the chains which bound him. 

He heard the distant bells, and sprang 
from his bed while the stars were yet shin- 
ing. There were lights here and there 
in the city, and he stood gazing at them, 
when his mother came out of the house, 
and stood beside him. 

“Be you going?” she asked in a subdued 
tone. 

“ Yes,” was the reply, “ I’m going to 
work, and I'll get my breakfast at Patsy’s. 
’Twon’t be best for me to see the old 
man.” 

“What’ll 1 do?” 

“I don’t know, mother. Wish I did. 
If you hain’t got enough to eat, go to 
Patsy’s. I’ll settle with her. If he was 
dead and out of the way, thsre’d be some 


52 


DARKENING CLOUDS AND 


chance for us. I don’t see wliat folks like 
him live for.” 

“He wa’n’t so bad as you when he wa’n’t 
no older.” 

“ Mother ! ” 

“ That’s true, Tom. I remember. And* 
lie wa’n’t so bad when we was first married. 
It’s all the drink ; and I’m afraid for you.” 

a May be you’ve reason. But don’t 
worry. The old man’ll go off after lie’s 
had some breakfast ; and if you get lone- 
some, go down the river. Give me Kate’s 
things, and I’ll take them along. You'll see 
me at dark.” 

Tom Magee breakfasted at Lion's Mouth, 
where he ate and talked, at the same time 
receiving encouragement, while expressing 
many of his hopes and wishes. When it 
was light, he went to the wood-yard, worked 
steadily through the morning, at noon ate 
a lunch which he bought at the baker’s, 
and resumed labor. In the afternoon, he 
delivered some wood at the house of a lady, 


BREAKING HEARTS. 


53 


wlio asked his assistance in removing a 
heavy piece of furniture ; and here he saw a 
young man, not much older than himself, re- 
clining upon a couch. 

“ I almost envy you your strength,” re- 
marked the occupant of the couch. “ It 
is something for which you ought to thank 
God. To save my life, I could not -do what 
you have just done.” 

“Perhaps you’ve been sick, and lost 
your strength,” was the embarrassed reply. 

“ I have always been sick ; or, at least, I 
never have been strong. I never expect to 
be strong in this w T orld. And it seems 
hard, sometimes, because there is so much I 
want to do. I wish I could find some one 
to do my work for me.” 

“ What you want done, sir ? ” asked Tom 
Magee respectfully. “Perhaps I might help 
you.” 

“I wish you could; but the work I want 
done isn't wdiat you are accustomed to‘ 
do.” 


u 


DARKENING CLOUDS AND 


“ I might learn, sir. I’m called quick to 
learn.” 

“ You’ve learned some things too quick, 
my friend.” 

a You’re right, there. Guess I have.” 
And involuntarily an oath escaped the 
speaker’s lips. 

“That’s one wrong thing you’ve learned,” 
was said quickly. “ Don’t you know it is 
a sin to swear ? ” 

“ Yes, sir, I’ve heard so ; but I forgot.” 

“Don’t forget again. Tell me your name, 
if you please, so I can write it in my list. 
I have a list of the names of some of my 
friends, and I should like to add yours.” 

“’Tain’t a good name,” said the young 
man, looking with wonder and admiration 
upon one who addressed him as friend. 
“ Such as ’tis, you’re welcome to it, though. 
I’m Tom Magee.” 

“You live up beyond Lion’s Mouth.” 

“ Yes, sir.” 

“Then I’m very glad to see you. I 


BREAKING HEARTS. 


55 


have some little books here that I keep to 
give my friends, and I will give you one 
if you will read it. It is a story, and all 
the better perhaps for that. Will you read 
it?” 

“Yes, sir.” 

“ And will you come to see me some- 
times, when you are at leisure, so that we 
can have a long talk about the work I 
want done ?” 

“Yes, sir, I’ll come any time, you say.” 

“Then come to-morrow evening.” 

Mrs. Richards manifested no impatience 
while her son conversed with this stranger ; 
and, when he reached the door, she said 
pleasantly, “I hope we shall see you again. 
Wilbur will be disappointed if you break 
your engagement.” 

An awkward bow replied to this, and 
the door was closed. 

“ There’s a large held for cultivation,” re- 
marked the invalid, adjusting the pillows of 
his couch. 


56 


DARKENING CLOUDS AND 


“ And have you faitli in your ability to 
reclaim it ?” asked the mother. 

“If I plant, and you water, God may 
give the increase,” was the response. “ The 
Magees, father and son, are notorious for 
their wickedness ; hut they are not past 
hope. This Tom has good abilities, and, 
if I’m not mistaken, there’s a generous heart 
hidden under a vast deal of rubbish.” 

“You are very hopeful, my son.” 

“My mother’s own child. Who but you 
taught me to be hopeful and patient ? If 
I had that fellow’s strength, the ‘ world 
should be better for my living in it ; and 
now I’m not satisfied to be wholly idle. 
If I can win Tom Magee to work for me, 
I may be doing good in two ways. If he 
reads the book I gave him, I shall be en- 
couraged. Of course I shall pray for him, 
and you’ll remember him, mother?” 

Mrs. Richards smiled an assent, and, al- 
though having little expectation that the 
young man who had just left her house 


BREAKING HEARTS. 


57 


would redeem his promise, slie did not ex- 
press lier distrust. If lie sliould come, 
there would be an opportunity for some 
effort in liis behalf; if he should not come, 
the words which had been spoken might 
not be entirely without effect. 


CHAPTER II. 


ONE GLEAMING LIGHT, ONE DAUNTLESS WILL. 

ONE too long, this time,” said Mr. 
Riley, as his assistant drove into 
the yard. “Yes, sir ; but the lady 
wanted some help in the house. 
Ell make it up.” Not even a frown ac- 
companied this reply, and the wood mer- 
chant looked the surprise which he felt. 
When did Tom Magee ever speak in that 
tone to one who reproved him? 

“ All right, Tom ; nothing to make up,” 
was said heartily. “ We only want to get 
through with the orders.” 

The day’s work was completed at dark, 
and the day’s wages paid. Every cent was 
spent for food, and the young man was 
walking home, when his mother met him 
before lie reached Lion’s Mouth. Erisrht- 



ONE GLEAMING LIGHT, ONE DAUNTLESS WILL. 59 


fully pale as she was, with dark circles 
around her eyes, and marks of violence 
upon her face, she did not need to say 
that she had suffered from a drunkard’s 
fury. “O Tom! I’ve wanted you,” she 
exclaimed, after a moment’s scrutiny of her 
son. “I thought he’d kill me.” 

An oath was smothered, but the ffre 
burned within as he asked, “ Where is the 
old man?” 

“ I left him up there. I ran away, and 
I can’t go back to-night. Patsy’ll keep me, 
and you too. You’d better not go up.” 

How warm and pleasant was the little 
house whose doors were opened to receive 
them, and how cheerful was the voice which 
welcomed them! “ Come in, friends. We’ll 
make quite a family, to-night. Supper’s 
waiting, and my little girl’s getting sleepy.” 

“ I don’t know about stopping,” replied 
Tom. “ Guess I’d better keep on.” En- 
treaty, however, prevailed, and he threw 
down his packages sullenly. Was not 


GO 


ONE GLEAMING LIGHT, 


everything against liim? Ho, not every- 
thing. Here were his mother and Kate 
trusting him, the latter waiting for a word 
of recognition. “ Good-evening, sis,” lie 
said, going towards her. 

“ Good-evening. I'm glad you’ve come,” 
she made answer. 

“Be you? That’s good. How do you 
do?” 

“’Most well, only my arm,” she replied 
truthfully. “ That’s going to get well. 
Ain’t it nice here?” 

“Yery; you like it?” 

“Yes, sir, only I’m afraid I hadn’t ought 
to stay. I cost so much, and I can’t 
work.” 

“But I can. You just get well, and 
I’ll take care of the cost. — f didn’t calcu- 
late on your taking the whole family,” 
added Tom, turning to * their liostess. 
“ There’s something for supper in them 
bundles, and I sha’n’t carry them any fur- 
ther.” 


CITE DAUNTLESS WILL. 


Cl 


This addition to her supplies did not 
come amiss to Patsy Quinn, and soon the 
table was more generously spread ; while 
she, affecting a cheerfulness she was far 
from feeling, urged her guests to partake 
of the food before them. When Tom put 
on his cap, she tied a hood upon her head, 
threw a large blanket-shawl over her shoul- 
ders, and said, “ I’m going out a little 
while. Mis Magee, you and Kate can keep 
house ; and, if anybody comes, tell them 
I shall be back before long. I slia’n’t go 
a great ways.” 

It was not to walk, but to talk that 
she came out, as Tom well knew. She 
wished to consult with him in regard to 
his mother, and decide ivpon some course of 
action. When they were near the hut, she 
paused while her companion went forward. 
Soon she heard angry talking, and then a 
heavy fall. 

“ I’ve settled the old man for to-night,” 
exclaimed Tom, coming out to her. “ lie 


62 


ONE GLEAMING LIGHT, 

struck me, and I levelled him. I’ve done 
enough for once. We’ll p;o back, now.” 

“ Not till you know liow bad lie’s hurt',” 
was tbe reply. “ Go in and see.” 

“Not this child.” 

“Then I’ll go in alone. There ain’t no stir 
in the house, and may be he needs help.” 

“ Then let him help himself,” replied the 
son, and yet he followed his friend as she 
threw open the door of the hut. 

Jim Magee was lying motionless, stunned 
by his fall ; nevertheless, an application of 
water soon restored him, and, refusing all 
assistance, he rose to his feet, confronting 
the two who regarded him so differently. 
There was such hate in the son’s heart 
that he could feel no pity. Yet he was 
treading the same path his father had trod- 
den ; degrading himself by the same habits, 
and fist, going down to the same depths of 
infamy. “ Like father, like son.” For the 
first time he realized the full import of 
these words. 


O'NE DAUNTLESS WILL. 


03 


A tiger at bay never glared more fero- 
ciously at an escaped victim than did the 
drunkard at his son ; but having tested 
their comparative strength, he did not care 
to renew the contest. His rage found ex- 
pression in hideous oaths, and, when tired of 
this weapon of defence, he asked fiercely for 
his wife, demanding that she return home. 

“ I’ll stand between you and mother in 
future,” said Tom decidedly. “ You won’t 
abuse her much more when I’m round.” 

“ Much good she’ll get from you,” was the 
sneering reply. “ Go up-stairs, and mind 
your own business, while I look after the 
old woman.” 

“ Come,” now whispered Patsy, and with- 
out another word they left the house, 
i The time had seemed long to Mrs. Magee, 
suffering as she was with the fear of some 
new calamity; but now, reassured and com- 
forted, she was glad to seek forgetfulness in 
sleep. Tom slept upon the floor that night, 
ready for any emergency ; and before any 


ONE GLEAMING LIGHT, 


64 

one else was astir lie visited liis old home. 
When he returned, Patsy praised his energy, 
remarking, “ You’ll he somebody yet.” 

“ I don’t know about that,” was the reply. 
“ I’m ’most discouraged. I don’t know but 
I’d try, if ’twould do any good. I could give 
up liquor. I know that, because I ain’t 
drinked none this two days. But what’s 
the use ? The old man’ll do his worst to 
keep me. back; and the boys — I don’t 
care for them, though. They’ll be glad to 
keep out of my way after they find out I’m 
in earnest. Two came round yesterday, but 
Biley ordered them off, and I didn’t help 
them about staying.” 

“ Good for you, my lad. I’ve some hope 
of you. 'I’ll help you all I can. Just count 
on that; and my help’s worth something, if 
I ain’t only a poor, lone woman.” 

“ You’re a brick, Patsy ! ” exclaimed the 
young man. And this compliment was 
received in the same spirit it was given. 
“ Something strange happened to me yester- 


ONE DAUNTLESS WILL. 


G5 


day, and I want to tell you about it,” he 
added, after a short silence. And his compa- 
nion signifying that she wished to hear, he 
proceeded to describe his interview with 
Wilbur Richards. “ Row, I’m going just as 
I promised, but I’ll be ashamed of myself 
forty times. I hain’t got nothing lit to wear, 
and I ain’t fit to talk with such as they be ; 
but I’m . going. I can learn to do ’most any 
kind of work, and I’m bound to help that 
fellow what he wants. He called me his 
friend, and there’s the book he give me. I 
meant to read it last night, but I forgot it. 
You can read it, Patsy.” 

“ I ain’t much of a reader, but Katy’ll 
read it to me,” answered the woman. “You 
just go to Mis Richards, to-night, if you 
have to go on your knees ; and you do just 
as that young man tells you. Why, folks 
say he’s better than any of the ministers 
round here. He’s a great scholar, too, for 
all he’s such a strengthless thing. His 
mother’s a lady, and he’s all she’s got.” 


66 


ONE GLEAMING LIGHT, 


“They’re got money,” said Tom Magee. 
“I wisli I’d got as much as they have.” 

“ You’ve got something better’n money, 
my lad. You’ve got health and strength. 
Would you change places with Wilbur 
Eichards ? Would you sell your strength 
for money ?” 

“Ho, that I wouldn’t!” And the speaker 
drew himself up proudly as he uttered this 
emphatic negative. He, had often boasted of 
his size and strength ; and this boasting was 
not without reason. Something of this his 
companion was thinking as she said : 

“If you was dressed up, you needn’t be 
ashamed of your looks nowhere.” 

“ Ho use to talk that,” was the response. 
“ I’ve got to wear the^e old clothes till I 
earn some better, and I don’t know when 
that’ll be. I want to make a bargain with 
you about mother and Kate. Mother ain’t 
going up the river till the old man can 
behave himself decent, and that ain’t likely 
to be very soon.” 


ONE DAUNTLESS WILL. 


67 


“ We’ll see about tliat. Your mother can 
cook your board and hers on my stove,. and 
I slia’n’t ask nothing for room if you’ll let 
drink alone.” 

“ There ain’t no danger of my drinking, 
to-day,” said Tom. “I wouldn’t drink for 
nobody. Riley wants me to keep right on 
to work for him ; but I sha’n’t make no 
bargain till I’ve talked with that young 
fellow I see yesterday.” 

This assurance being given, the speaker 
examined his book while breakfast was being 
prepared ; and the story, pleasantly told, so 
fixed his attention that he laid it aside with 
reluctance. It was very different from his 
usual reading, and, perhaps, for that rea- 
son impressed him more strongly. Before 
going to work he commended his mother to 
the care of their mutual friend, arranging that 
he should be notified if his father proved 
troublesome. Often during the day he looked 
towards Lion’s Mouth, expecting to see a flag 
of distress ; but, happily, none appeared. 


68 


ONE GLEAMING- LIGHT, 


“ Tlie Owls,” however, gave token of their 
dissatisfaction and distress. Watching for 
their recreant brother, when he was engaged 
at a distance from the wood-yard they assail- 
ed him with questions couched in language 
befitting their pursuits. Tom Magee was in 
no mood to brook interference, as they would 
have known had they been sober ; but, excited 
by liquor and the coolness of their reception, 
they ventured upon dangerous ground. There 
was danger of a fight, but, controlling him- 
self with great effort, Tom defined his pre- 
sent position. 

“Look here!” he exclaimed, “you’ve 
said enough ; and, now, you’d better go 
about your business. I ain’t a coward. 
You know that. I could knock your teeth 
down your throat, but I won’t. I’ll see you 
a week from to-night, and tell you what I’ve 
a mind to; but ’tain’t no use hooting for 
me. Now, get out of my w r ay.” 

At this the half-drunken rowdies were 
glad to retreat, and their old associate was 


ONE DAUNTLESS WILL. 


69 


left to liis work. Impatient for tlie evening, 
and wishing time to make what preparations 
were possible, he completed his allotted task 
at an early hour. 

“ What’s come over you, these three 
days ?” asked his employer, after expressing 
entire satisfaction with his services. “You 
don’t act like yourself. Folks tell me ’tain’t 
safe to have you ’round. How’s that ? 
Teir the truth square out, so I can know 
what to depend on. I want a good, trusty 
hand for the winter, and I’d rather have 
you for strength than anybody else I know 
of; but I can’t keep ’round after you all the 
time. I shouldn’t hired you when I did, 
only 1 was in a tight place for help, and you 
happened along.” 

“Ain’t you satisfied?” asked the young 
man. 

“Yes,” was the reply. “Hain’t I told 
you so ? If I hain’t, I meant to. But you 
know what a name you’ve got, both sides 
of the river; and, to-day, I’ve heard some- 


70 


ONE GLEAMING LIGHT, 


thing about your running off with Duke 
Moran’s girl. Where is she? Do you 
know anything about her?” 

“I’ll tell you all about that,” said Tom 
hoarsely, a desire to exonerate himself from 
undeserved blame struggling with his anger. 

His companion looked at him keenly 
while he was speaking, occasionally asking a 
question, which was answered with apparent 
truthfulness. “I don’t quite understand 
it,” was the only comment. 

“I don’t neither,” responded the young 
man. “I can’t tell what made me want to 
take her home; only I was afraid there’d be 
a row about my hurting her, and there 
wouldn’t nobody have her.” 

“You’ve kept clear of liquor since then?” 

“Yes, and mean to for the present.” 

“Then come again to-morrow, and I’ll 
find work for you as long as you keep 
sober. Want your pay to-night?” 

“ Yes. If you pay me, the old man won’t 
get it, and I won’t work to have him take 


ONE DAUNTLESS WILL. 71 

my wages. I’ll spend wliat I earn as I’m a 
mind to.” 

Only part of liis wages was spent that 
evening ; lie carrying the remainder to Patsy 
Quinn, who engaged to keep it safely until 
he should call for it. His father had been to 
Lion’s Mouth, and threatened violence if his 
wife did not return home ; but her guardian 
answered threat with threat, and the miser- 
able drunkard went on his lonely way, with 
manners somewhat subdued. 

“Good for you, Patsy!” cried the young 
man, lau^hins: at his father’s discomfiture. 
“ I hope the old man learnt a lesson he’ll re- 
member.” 

“He’ll be back,” said Mrs. Magee sadly. 
“ I’m expecting him every minute. I hope 
you won’t go away?” 

“But I must,” was the reply. “I’ve 
promised to go to a good place ; and I must. 
Patsy knows about it, and she says go.” 

“ Yes, I do. I can take care of things here. 
I want you to look as well as you can, so, 


72 


ONE GLEAMING LIGHT, 


after supper, you’ll find some clean clothes 
in the bedroom.” 

So many thinking of his happiness ! So 
many looking to him for assistance ! Little 
Kate Moran welcomed him with a smile, 
reaching out her thin hand to touch him as 
he passed her. She had read the book 
given him by Wilbur Kichards — read it 
aloud, as well as she was able, and then 
pored over it to learn the words which, at 
first, seemed too hard for her. Child as she 
was, she was far wiser in some ways than 
her companions. She had a simple, loving 
faith in God as the Father of all, both rich 
and poor. She knew that Christ came into 
the world to make atonement for sin, and 
that whosoever believeth on him shall be 
saved. 

“You don’t mean to say that God loves 
everybody?” remarked Patsy Quinn, when, 
in answer to some question, she had asserted 
this fundamental doctrine of Christianity. 

“My mother said so, and she knew,” 


ONE DAUNTLESS WILL. 


73 


was Kate’s reply. “And there’s a verse in 
the Bible says so, too. Mother had me say 
it ever so many times, so I shouldn’t forget 
it. I’ll say it now : “ God so loved the 

world, that he gave his only-begotten Son, 
that whosoever believeth on him might not 
perish, but have, everlasting life.’ The 
‘ world ’ means everybody, and 4 Son ’ means 
Jesus. He’s the one £ that died. Mother 
had a Bible ; but father sold it, and I never 
had one since. The first money I earn, I 
mean to buy one.” 

If ever Mrs. Quinn felt the awe inspired 
by hoiy fear, it was then. Years before, she 
had hidden her Bible in the depths of an 
old chest which she seldom opened ; and 
there, beneath heaps of rubbish, it lay, with 
all its blessed truths unheeded. When the 
Bible was thus banished from her presence, 
she had been fain to curse God and die ; but 
some impulse restrained her from self-de- 
struction, and gradually life grew to be less 
irksome. How, although she did not care 


74 


ONE GLEAMING LIGHT, 


to hear more of God and Jesus, she brought 
forward her Bible, and placed it in the 
hands of the child. 

“Why, it’s just like mother’s, with just 
such pictures, and just such a cover!” ex- 
claimed Kate. “May I read it all I 
want to? ” 

“Yes, to be sure,” was the reply. “You 
can have it for your own while you stay 
with me.” 

Tom Magee fancied that his little charge 
looked very bright and happy; but he did 
not guess the reason; indeed, his own per- 
sonal interests so engrossed his thoughts 
that others received small attention. When 
supper was eaten, and the clean clothes ex- 
amined, he in some measure appreciated the 
kindness of his humble friend. He hesi- 
tated before appropriating the articles which 
her son had worn, and which she must have 
treasured almost sacredly ; but a word decided 
him; and presently he appeared with imma- 
culate shirt front, wristbands, and collar. 


ONE DAUNTLESS WILL. 


75 


“ You’ll do,” remarked Patsy, surveying 
liim from head to foot. “Now, mind all 
you hear, and do as you’re told. You’d 
better work for Mis Kichards’ folks for 
half-pay than work for anybody else. 
You needn’t worry about anything here. 
I guess I can take care of my own house.” 

“ Don’t you think he’ll come ?” asked 
Wilbur Kichards, looking up anxiously into 
his mother’s face. 

“I hope so, my son,” she answered. “It 
is hardly time for him yet.” 

A piano occupied a recess of the room in 
which mother and son were sitting, and 
to while away an hour of waiting the lat- 
ter ran his fingers carelessly over the keys. 
The sweet chords thrilled his heart; and, 
responsive to his touch, a grand burst of 
music filled the room, while his whole 
nature felt its subduing power, and he con- 
tinued to play until fatigue obliged him to 
desist. As he turned from the instrument, 
he encountered the fixed gaze of Tom 


7Q 


ONE GLEAMING LIGHT, 


Magee, who, haying been shown into the room, 
and motioned to a seat, neither moved nor spoke. 

“ Good-evening ! I’m glad to see you,” 
said the musician. And his companion, after 
drawing a long sigh of satisfaction, replied 
by a simple “ Good-evening.” 

“Have you been here long, my friend?” 

“ I don’t know, sir. I never should know 
about the time, if I could hear such music 
as you made.” 

“ Then you like it. I’m glad of that, 
because it shows that w r e have some tastes 
in sympathy. I suppose you have been 
hard at work all day ?” 

“Yes, sir.” 

“ And are you very tired ?” 

“ Ho, sir ; I ain’t often tired.” 

“ How happy you ought to be ! It 
seems to me I should be perfectly happy, 
if I had as much strength as you have.” 

“But I can’t make any music with my 
fingers,” said Tom, glancing at his brown 
hands. “I don’t see how you do it.” 


ONE DAUNTLESS WILL. 


77 


“ It’s easy, like everything else, when 
you know how,” was the reply. “ I pre- 
sume you could learn to make music ; but 
it wouldn’t be the best way for you to 
spend your time.” 

“Ho, ’twouldn’t. I’ve something else to 
do. I must earn money,” said the visitor, 
who was ill at ease in the well-furnished 
room, although alone with Wilbur Rich- 
ards. 

“'Be thankful that you have strength to 
earn money,” was the response. “You 
are rich.” 

“ Oh ! no, sir. I’m very poor. I haven’t got 
a dollar in the world, nor a suit of decent 
clothes. I was ashamed to come here to- 
night, but I w T anted to. And, besides, you 
said you wanted somebody to work for 
you.” 

“ Yes, I do. But perhaps you’ll be dis- 
appointed when you hear what kind of work 
I want done. I want somebody to do good 
for me.” 


78 


ONE GLEAMING LIGHT, 


“ Then I won’t answer, sir, and I’d better 
be going,” murmured poor Tom. “ You 
knew I couldn’t do that,” he added, in a re- 
proachful tone. 

“ I know you can, if you will,” said 
his companion, laying one hand lightly upon 
his shoulder. “And 1 will do you good, if 
you will allow me. Come, my friend, we 
are both of us young; just beginning in the 
world, and we can help each other. We 
have been strangers, but we have started on 
the same journey, and are bound for the same 
place.” A look of surprise on the visitor’s 
face was equivalent to a question, which was 
answered quickly. “ W e are going to the 
judgment-seat of God, you and I, to be 
judged for the deeds done here in the 
body.” 

Tom Magee had always scoffed at re- 
ligion, at churches, at the Bible, and at every 
mention of things holy. How, however, 
when this impressive truth was spoken by 
one so flir above him in social position, and 


ONE DAUNTLESS WILL. 


79 


under circumstances so novel, lie felt no in- 
clination to scoff or sneer. He knew not 
how to reply ; but after much effort, he suc- 
ceeded in expressing his embarrassment : 
“ You liain’t lived as I have,” he said, in 
conclusion. “You don’t know how I’ve 
lived.” 

“ Ho, I dont’ ; but, if you wished to tell 
me, I might help you to a better way of liv- 
ing, my friend. I have not lived as I ought. 
Every one does wrong, some in one way, 
and some in another. You know that.” 

“I never thought. I should guess, though, 
that you always done right.” 

“ Then you would guess wrong,” said 
Wilbur Richards with great seriousness. 
“I am a sinner like yourself.” 

“Ho, not like me, sir. That can’t be. 
You never got drunk, or took what don’t 
belong to you, or got into a row, or said 
bad words. I’m sure you hain’t done 
such things, and I have ; so we ain’t alike.” 

“ But we are both sinners in the sight 'fcf 


80 ONE GLEAMING LIGHT, 

God, my friend; and, if we ever get to 
heaven, it will be because Christ died for 
us. You understand that?” 

“ I don’t know,” answered poor Tom, sad- 
ly bewildered by the conversation of his host. 
At one moment he was tempted to leave 
the house without excuse or ceremony ; the 
next, he longed to tell this new friend all 
his troubles and perplexities. Angry with 
himself, and yet unable to resist the in* 
fluencer of one who looked into his eyes 
with such loving earnestness, he could only 
return the gaze with one of unfeigned as- 
tonishment. u I don’t know much about 
anything good,” he added, 

“ You can learn,” was the reply. “ You 
know you must learn, if you are going to do 
my work. I lie here on the couch for 
whole days, and think what I would do if 
I was well and strong. I never tell mother 
what I am thinking, because it would trouble 
her, and she has trouble enough with me 
now. May I tell you ? ” 


ONE DAUNTLESS WILL. 


81 


“ Yes, sir,” replied the still wondering 1 
visitor; “ I’d be glad to have you.” 

“I would help everybody that’s in trouble. 
If any one had a heavy load to carry, I 
would take part of it. I saw an old man 
go past here, the other day, with a full 
basket, and I -wanted to help him. lie 
trembled as he walked. You could have 
helped him.” 

“Yes, sir.” 

“ Then there is one way you could do 
good, if you were on the lookout for 
opportunities.” 

“Yes, sir; but, you see, I’d been more 
likely to give him a piTsh.” And a flush of 
shame overspread the speaker’s face, as he 
remembered how often his strength had 
been exerted to the injury of others. 
“ That’s what I’ve always done ; but I 
guess I’ve hurt myself most of anybody. 
I never’ve done any good in all my life, 
unless it’s been these two days since I went 
to work. I liain’t drinked a drop of liquor.” 


82 


ONE GLEAMING LIGHT, 


“That is well! That is beginning in the 
right way. Now, if I can help you along, 
I shall be very glad to do so. Suppose I 
tell you something about myself, so you may 
feel better acquainted with me.” 

Assured that this would be welcome, 
Wilbur Richards commenced by speaking 
of liis childhood. Even then he was an 
invalid, suffering so much from pain and 
weariness that he could seldom join in the 
sports of more robust children. When he 
was ten years of age, his father had died. 
He lingered over this sad experience, de- 
scribing the last days of one whom he had 
well-nigh worshipped, and repeating the last 
words which had enjoined him to be found 
faithful in his allotted work. 

“You loved your father,” said Tom softly. 

“ Certainly I did. He was worthy of 
love. I used to think he was perfect; and 
now it seems to me he was as nearly so as 
any one can be. If I am ever as good as 
he was, I shall be satisfied.” 


ONE DAUNTLESS WILL. 


83 


“I guess I’d been better if I’d bad such 
a father.” These words escaped the visitor; 
and, as his companion waited for further 
comment, he added: “You don’t know what 
’tis to have such a father as mine is.” 

“ Ho, my friend, I don’t. I’m sorry for you. 
There’s the making of a noble man in you. 
Perhaps no one has ever told you that 
before ; but I am sure of it. O Tom Magee ! 
you ought to be one of the best men in 
the country!” And in his enthusiasm, the 
speaker clasped the hard, brown hand of 
his companion. “Put back your hair from 
your forehead, and let me see how you 
would look at your best.” 

“’Twon’t stay back,” was the reply. “It’s 
just like a mop.” 

“A handsome mop,” replied Wilbur Rich- 
ards, with a smile, as Tom threaded his 
fingers through the masses of dark, curly hair, 
and revealed a broad, full forehead. “Regu- 
lar brushing would keep it in place; and as 
for the curls, yon can’t afford to lose them.” 


81 


ONE GLEAMING LIGHT, 


After all liis thought and anxiety in re- 
gard to this interview, the young man, so 
anxious to accomplish some good, had not 
followed his proposed plan. Standing on 
common ground, he sought to establish a 
bond of good-fellowship, rather than inpress 
his visitor with a sense of his own superior- 
ity. His genial manners and hearty words 
produced the desired effect. The barriers 
of reserve were broken down ; and once 
commencing a history of his past life, Tom 
Magee spoke rapidly and truthfully. 

“You see how ’tis,” he said, in conclu- 
sion. “ There’s the old man, so bad lie 
couldn’t be worse; and there’s mother, all 
broken down and afraid of her life; and 
there’s little Kate, that I’ve promised to 
take care of. What’s to be done?” 

“ The best you can, my friend. I’ll tell you 
what I think I should do, if I was in your place.” 

“I wish you would,” was the reply. “I 
don’t seem to keep to one mind long at 
a time, and I’ll be glad to hear you.” 


ONE DAUNTLESS WILL. 


85 


“Well, Tom — I want to speak that name 
once — I would call my father ‘ father,’ not the 
‘ old man/ I would provide for my mother, if 
hard work could do it. I don’t know exactly 
what to say about that child. It is no place 
for her in your home, and I am afraid Mrs. 
Quinn is not the best woman in the world to 
bring her up. Is Mrs. Quinn a Christian?” 

“ Mo, sir, I guess not. I don’t know 

really what you mean. She don’t go to 

meeting Sundays, but she’s always ready to 
do anybody a good turn, and she’s down 
on liquor. You see, she’s reason for that. 
Katy knows about God. She told me, 
and she read the book you gave. I read 
some of it. I’ll read the rest, and — and — 
I’ll try not to say ‘old man’ again.” 

“That is right! Try to do your father 
some good. Perhaps you can make him a 

better man. I think I would try if I was 

well and strong as you are.” 

“ IIow would you begin ? ” Mo wonder 
Tom asked this hopelessly. 


86 


ONE GLEAMING LIGHT, 


“I’d set him a good example,” was the 
reply. “ Be a thorough-going temperance 
man, as I am now. A few weeks ago, I 
consulted a physician, who advised me to 
drink Bourbon whiskey. He said it would 
tone up my system, and give me strength ; 
but I don’t believe it, and if I did I 
wouldn’t drink the vile stuff three months 
if I knew it would add ten years to my 
life. I won’t die a drunkard ! ” 

“ But you wouldn’t be a drunkard if you 
only took it regular, every day. Folks 
that do that ain’t drunkards.” 

“ What are they, then ? ” 

“I don’t know. Something besides drun- 
kards.” 

“Well, my friend, I know. They are 
the material out of which drunkards are 
made by the wholesale — moderate drinkers. 
IIow do I know I could leave off my 
whiskey at the end of three months?” 
“You could if you was a mind to.” 
“But people say the appetite for liquor 


ONE DAUNTLESS WILL. 87 

increases with indulgence, until a man has 
no power to abstain from it.” 

“I don’t believe that,” was Tom’s reply. 
“ I suppose a man’d hanker after it, and 
feel dry, but he’d be a fool if he couldn’t 
hold on. I think likely I’ve drinked as 
much liquor as any boy of my age ; but 
I needn’t drink another drop unless I’m 
a mind to. I know that.” 

“ I’m glad to hear you say so, my friend, 
and I’m sure you speak the truth,” Wilbur 
Richards responded. “ I know you have 
a strong will. If you should once decide 
to abandon all your bad habits, you would 
do so.” 

“ What’s the use?” 

a The use! Wouldn’t you rather live in 
a good house than a poor one? Wouldn’t 
you rather be respected than despised, and 
wouldn’t you rather go to heaven than 
be shut out?” 

“Yes, sir.” These two words, breathed 
rather than spoken, expressed far niore than 


ss 


ONE GLEAMING LIGHT, 


a simple assent. Sitting there, contrasting 
liis own wretched home with that in which 
he was now a guest, Tom Magee realized 
his degradation as never before. In his 
way, he had been a king among liis fel- 
lows; praised for his strength and reckless- 
ness, consulted in every emergency, and 
feared when he chose to assert authority. 
After all, lie was only a boy, as Patsy had 
said, and it was natural that these things 
should have weight with him. lie looked 
at his present companion — the pale, spirit- 
ual face, fine intellectual head, and slight 
figure. How far his inferior in physical 
force, and yet how far above him in all 
which constitutes true superiority! 

Hei tlicr seemed disposed to break the 
silence. One was too wise to do this ; the 
other, too much engrossed with his own 
thoughts. At length, young Richards walk- 
ed across the room, and summoned to liis 
aid the spirit of music. 

“ I think I’d better go, now,” said his 


ONE DAUNTLESS WILL. 


89 


guest, as lie turned from the piano. “ Thank 
you, sir, for all you’ve said, and I’ll try to 
remember.” 

“ And you’ll come again ? ” 

“Yes, sir, if you want me to.” 

“I do want you to, my friend ; and, if 
you need any help, come to me. If I 
can’t help you in one way, perhaps I can 
in another. It sometimes does us good to 
talk of our troubles, and I am sure I shall 
want help. My mother will call upon Mrs. 
Quinn and your mother, if you think they 
would like to see her. You’ll be sure to 
come again ? ” added the speaker with a 
wistful look. 

“Yes, sir; I shall want to come, if I 
don’t go back to the old way.” 

» “ O Tom ! you won’t do that. It seems 

as though you couldn’t while I’m praying 
for you. What shall you do next Sab- 
bath ? ” 

“I don’t know.” 

“ Will you come here, for an hour or 


90 


ONE GLEAMING LIGHT, 


two, in the afternoon % Come, whether 
you go back or not.” 

There w*as some hesitation on the part 
of him who was thus addressed; but at 
last the desired promise was given, and 
Tom left the house. As he went out, he 
bared his head to the night wind, pushed 
back the clustering curls from his brow, 
and strode on, up the lonely path which 
followed the windings of the river. At 
Lion’s Mouth a gleaming light gave him 
mute welcome, but he continued his walk till 
he reached the old hut. Here he heard 
groans which proceeded from his father, and 
asked quickly, “ What’s the matter ? ” 

An oath prefaced the answer, “I’ve broke 
my leg.” Another oath. “I dragged my- 
self into the house before dark, and here 
I’ve laid. Why didn’t you come home 
in decent season ? ” 

“I didn’t mean to come at all,” was 
the reply. “I don’t know what made me 
come, but I’m glad I did.” 


ONE DAUNTLESS WILL. 


91 


“Fm glad, too,” said the prostrate man, 
with a fearfully profane imprecation. “I’ve 
got to have the doctor. Give me that 
bottle out of the cupboard. There’s victuals 
and drink in that. Take a swig yourself, 
and pass it along.” 

“No, father; I won’t take a swig myself, 
and I won’t give it to you. You’ve had 
enough, and I don’t want it. I’ll light 
a candle if I can find one, and then go 
after Dr. Hibbard. There wouldn’t no city 
doctor come here to-night.” 

“I don’t want no city doctor. Give me 
the bottle, and start along.” 

A candle was lighted, and Tom started 
for the short walk across the fields, to Dr. 
Hibbard’s house. The doctor was at home ; 
but there was some delay on his part, and 
some hesitation to taking charge of a patient 
where there seemed no prospect of remuner- 
ation. This matter, however, settled, he 
promised to “be right along.” 

Upon his return, the young man found 


92 


ONE GLEAMING LIGHT, 


liis father nearly crazed with thirst and 
rage. He was swearing at his son when 
the doctor arrived, and from this medical 
gentleman he received sympathy. Search 
was made for the bottle, but it had van- 
ished. There was no liquor in the house ; 
neither would any be furnished in response 
to his demands. Jim Magee expended a 
vast deal of breath to no purpose ; and, 
dismissing Dr. Hibbard with an oath, when 
told there was nothing for him to do but 
keep still, he tried the power of persuasion. 
It was pitiful to listen to him, so abject 
were his pleadings, so terrible his sufferings ; 
yet to all came the answer, “Ho, father.” 

“ But I’m burning up. I shall die with- 
out.” 

“ Then die, and be — ” The terrible word 
was unspoken. 

“I liain’t had nothing to eat since morn- 
ing — not a mouthful — and I’m starving. 
You want me to die?” 

“Why shouldn’t I?” asked the son in- 


ONE DAUNTLESS WILL. 


93 


voluntarily. “You hain’t ever done me 
any good. I’d be better off if you was 
to die.” Then, remembering the advice of 
Wilbur Richards, lie added, “I’ll bring you 
something to eat.” 

“You ain’t going to leave me alone, 
Tom ? Don’t ! I can’t stay alone.” 

“Then you’ll have to go without any- 
thing to eat. There ain’t anything in the 
house.” 

“I know it,” was said, with a groan. 
“Well, go along. Tell your mother I want 
her. If she don’t come, I’ll make her 
sorry for it.” 

Without hearing the last order, he hasten- 
ed away, and presently was relating such 
particulars of the accident as he had been 
able to learn. 

“And you had Dr. Hibbard to set the 
leg,” said Patsy Quinn. “Then it’s likely 
to me the job’ll have to be done over, or 
the old man’ll be a cripple for life. The 
doctor ain’t sober no time after dinner, 


u 


ONE GLEAMING LIGHT, 


but lie’s good as bis patient.” While say- 
ing this, the woman bustled about, collect- 
ing such provision from Tom’s supplies as 
she thought might be needed at the hut, 
and then volunteered to go there herself. 
“ No, Mis Magee, don’t you think of going,” 
she exclaimed. “It’s no place for you, to- 
night. Wait till I come back.” Out-of- 
doors, she turned to her companion with 
the question, “ What kind of work does 
Wilbur Ilichards want you to do?” 

“ He wants me to do good for him — help 
everybody I can, and make something of 
myself,” was the reply. 

“Is that all, Tom?” 

“ All ! ” was repeated sharply. “ That’s 
enough. You’d think- so if you’d heard 
him talk. I don’t know what I’m going 
to do, but I’m going there again, next 
Sunday. He knows most everything that 
I don’t. He had a good father, and the old 
man — there, that’s wrong. He said ’twas. 
Patsy, do you know anything about heaven ?” 


ONE DAUNTLESS WILL. 


95 


“Not much,” slie answered sadly. “I 
used* to hear about it when I was a girl ; 
and Katy’s been talking about it to-day. 
Did he talk about it?” 

“Yes, and lie’s going there, sure. Wonder 
if there’s any place for such a boy as I’ve 
been? There’s something new the matter 
with me. I don’t know what ’tis, but I 
mean to try — ” He did not finish this 
sentence, and perhaps his companion did 
not need that he should do so. She com- 
prehended his silence. 

Solitude had not improved the temper 
of Jim Magee, as lie soon gave evidence. 
Tie still demanded liquor, swore he w r ould 
have it, and closed .liis tirade with a fright- 
ful howl of rage. To all this, his son 
made no response beyond reiterating pre- 
vious refusals, and adding a needed caution 
as to quiet. 

Patsy moved noiselessly about the kitchen, 
preparing such nourishment as the drunk- 
ard’s condition required. This accomplished, 


9G ONE GLEAMING LIGHT, 

she held a whispered consultation with 
Tom, after which she went home, where 
she exerted her utmost powers of persua- 
sion to induce Mrs. Magee to remain with 
her. Fortunately, she was successful ; but 
the poor woman, half-crazed with fear and 
tortured with anxiety, could only count the 
lagging hours and long for morning. 

!No rest, either, had her son. In after- 
years, lie was accustomed to speak of that 
night as a night of horrors. What with 
the ravings of liis father, the accusations 
of his conscience, and the keen sense of 
degradation which he endured, the night 
answered to an eternity of time. Was tliis 
w T eary watching part of the work he was 
to do for Wilbur Kicliards? Was his father 
stricken down as the first step toward re- 
form ? 

With only the stars above him while he 
paced to and fro before the hut, these and 
kindred questions thronged his mind. When 
time to make preparations for leaving his 


OXE DAUXTLESS WILL. 


07 


father, lie said, “ Mother’ll come and stay 
.with you, to-day, if you’ll treat her decent.” 
• “You going off?” was the reply. 

“ Of course I am. You want a fire and 
something to eat. IIow do you expect 
you can have anything, if I don’t work for 
it? I’ll spend my wages for you now; but, 
if you was well, you shouldn’t have a cent, 
and now you sha’n’t have any for liquor.” 

“AVant all the liquor for yourself?” an- 
swered Jim Magee,, in a sneering tone. 

“ Ho, I don’t,” said the young man, after 
a moment’s silence, in which he strove to 
obtain the mastery over himself. “ I hain’t. 
drinked a drop this four days; and I sha’n’t 
again, just yet. I’ve got enough to do 
without that. If you want mother to stay 
with you to-day, she’ll come; but you’ll stay 
alone to-morrow, if I hear of any trouble.” 

I will not describe the incidents of this 
day, or of those which succeeded it, until 
Tom found himself due at a meeting of 
“ The Owls.” To meet his engagement 


08 


ONE GLEAMING- LIGHT, 


was not pleasant; to forfeit it would be 
inconsistent with both his past character 
and present intentions. The Sabbath in- 
terview with Wilbur Richards had greatly 
strengthened him; yet there would be much 
to test his moral courage. His old com- 
panions would in every possible way tempt 
him to return to them. It was late when 
he went to the room which had been the 
scene of so many carousals, and, giving the 
password, was admitted. The veritable owl 
which winked and blinked in his wire cage 
wore not a more impenetrable aspect than 
did the young man who seated himself 
silently at a table. Ilis appearance for- 
bade any uproarious greeting. 

“The Big Owl must give an account of 
himself.” Ho response was made, and again 
these words were repeated. 

At this Tom sprang to his feet, and for 
the next ten minutes proceeded to give such 
an account of himself as his listeners did not 
care to hear: “I demand that you release 

A 


ONE DAUNTLESS WILL. 


09 


me from all my promises, and count me out 
of your number,” he said, in conclusion. 
“ 5 Tain’ t no use if you don’t. I won’t come 
to no more of your meetings, and I won’t 
have nothing to do with your scrapes. I 
wish you’d all give up. We’ve come pretty 
nigh the wind a good many times, and 
you’re sure to get into trouble.” 

“We won’t give up ourselves, and we 
won’t give you up,” muttered one. 

“ You’ll do that last,” was the reply. 
“ You can’t bully me. I’m bound to do as 
I’m a mind to.” 

If anything had been needed to confirm 
Tom in liis decision to cut loose from the 
company of those around him,, it was sup- 
plied by the opposition he encountered. A 
fair-liaired boy, wdiose restless movements had 
not been unobserved while he was speaking, 
came near to him, saying in a low tone, “ I 
want to go with you.” 

“Is that so, Jack? Then you shall, and 


100 


ONE GLEAMING LIGHT, 


Cries of “ No, you don’t,” mingled with 
oaths, resounded through the room, until 
•Tom Magee, in an authoritative voice, com- 
manded silence, adding, “ Hear what more 
I’ve got to say.” 

Up to this time, no liquor had been drunk. 
Now all hands proposed a drink. 

“ Take a glass of something, Tom, and then 
we'll hear you. You’re getting dry. "We’re 
all dry. There’s Jack needs a thorough 
wetting.” 

A glass passed to Jack’s lips was dashed 
to the floor, and a strong arm thrown around 
him. “ I don’t never want to drink any 
more,” he said. “ It ’most kills mother to 
have me, and I know its awful mean. But 
they’ll make me.” 

“No, they won’t,” answered Tom de- 
cidedly, as he remembered how he had 
helped to drag down this boy to the same 
level with himself. I’ll stand by you. 
You’d better go home, and leave me to tight 
it out alone,” lie added, as the strife waxed 


ONE DAUNTLESS WILL. 


101 


more bitter. “ Slip out tlie door wlien I 
open it, and don’t stop for anything till 
you’re safe with your mother. I’ll see you 
within an hour.” 

So many voices were raised in dispute, so 
many feet were tramping and shuffling, that 
these instructions were not overheard. The 
door had been opened and closed before 
Jack’s intention was suspected, and then 
his friend prevented any attempt to follow 
him. 

“IVell, now, Tom, if you’re going to leave 
us, just drink one glass to show you don’t 
bear us no ill-will. Let’s all sit down, and 
talk the matter over, without such a row. 
’Tain’t no way, and I don’t like it.” 

A brimming glass of liquor without dilu- 
tion was pushed towards Tom Magee, who 
found the fumes appealing to his senses in 
a manner which threatened his powers of re- 
sistance. Retreat seemed the better part of 
valor ; yet he remained long enough to re- 
iterate once more his determination, and 


102 ONE GLEAMING LIGHT, ONE DAUNTLESS WILL. 

answer some enquiries, made partly in good 
faith, and partly in derision. 

“Now I’m going, and stop me who 
dares !” he exclaimed at last. “ If any of 
you want help to do better, come to me; 
but just remember, I ain’t no Owl.” 


CHAPTER III. 


THE STRONGEST AND THE VILEST MUST OWN 
GOD’S SOVEREIGN TOWER. 

HE ungrammatical assertion with 

which Tom Magee closed his 

speech was no offence to the lis- 
teners, save in its significance. 

They had not counted on his persistence in 
the determination to leave them. Two of 
their number had withdrawn. One would 
come back, should come back ; but Tom 
was a stubborn fact, not easily managed. 

Jack Wetherbee had hastened home to the 
upper room, where, after, a hard day’s work 
in the mill, his mother was busily sewing. 
Thinking of her boy, the needle dropped 

from her nerveless fingers, as she cried in- 
voluntarily, “ O God ! lay not this burden 
upon me. I cannot bear it !” She had 



* 



GOD'S SOVEREIGN POWER 


104 

borne poverty, liad seen the grave close over 
the form of a kind, loving husband, and yet 
had not murmured. But now, a heavier 
burden, a keener sorrow, had threatened her, 
and in agony of spirit she cried to God for 
deliverance. As many a mother has done, 
and, alas ! as many a mother shall do, while 
strong drink claims its victims, she prayed 
for death rather than life. 

And yet her boy loved her. There were 
times when he promised reformation, and 
talked of all he would do when he was a 
man. Only fourteen years of age, and re- 
form as necessary for him as for any gray- 
haired sinner! 

It may have been ill-judged on the part 
of Mrs. Wetlierbee to keep him with her, 
when, from early morning till the evening 
was well-nigh spent, she could only see him 
for a short half-hour. She might have 
found a home for him in some farmer’s 
family ; but where, then, would her own 
home be? “I must take him with me,” she 


god's sovereign- power. 105 

liad said to the friends who urged her to 
leave Jackson in the country, and for a 
time she saw no reason to regret her deci- 
sion. Then for months hope alternated 
with fear, yet she would not send him 
from her. 

lie knew his duty, regretted his weak- 
ness in yielding to evil companionship, and 
was overwhelmed with shame whenever he 
reflected upon his conduct. A fortnight be- 
fore the evening in question, he had been so 
intoxicated that his mother threatened him 
with banishment from her presence if he 
offended again in like manner. Sometimes 
he wished to go away where he would not 
be tempted to do wrong; but his mother, 
wiser than he, knew that he must learn to 
resist temptation if he -would be truly good. 
She prayed for him, wept over him, and, 
mother-like, loved him all the more for the 
tears she shed and the prayers she uttered. 

A man whose family occupied the lower 
rooms of the house in which she lived, and 


100 


god’s sovereign tower. 


wlio watched Jack’s career with interest, 
had advised her to “ get him out of the city 
as soon as possible. There’s trouble brew- 
ing for the set lie’s been with,” said the 
man. “They’re getting well known; and, 
if anything happens, Jack’ll come in for his 
share of the blame.” 

Mrs. Wetherbee was thinking of this 
when a hurried step on the stairs announced 
the coming of her son. Without speaking, 
he threw himself upon his knees beside her, 
and buried his face in her lap. lie had not 
been drinking. She saw that at a glance ; 
and, thankful as she was, asked no questions. 
There was a rap on the door of her room. 
“ Come in,” she said, and Tom Magee 
crossed the threshold. Instinctively she threw 
one arm around her boy, while she waited for 
her visitor to make known his business. 

“ I’ve come to see Jack.” 

At these words Jack sprang to his feet, 
exclaiming, “Did you mean what you said, 
to-night ?” 


GODS SOVEREIGN TOWER. 


107 


“ I did mean just that,” was the earnest 
reply. 

“ You won’t never drink any more li- 
quor ?” 

Tom hesitated a moment. lie had not 
taken the pledge of total abstinence ; was 
not certain that he should do so. He didn’t 
like the idea of too many promises, although 
he had never objected to them when they 
bound him to an evil course. Mrs. Wether- 
bee looked at him beseechingly. Jack held 
his hand, gazing up into his face as though 
everything depended upon what he should 
say. 

“I never’ll drink another drop of liquor 
as long as I live, so help me God ! Are you 
ready to say that, Jack?” 

“ Yes, I am,” was the response. And again 
the solemn pledge was repeated. 

“ What does all this mean ?” now asked 
Mrs. Wetlierbee. “ I don’t understand. Ain’t 
you Tom Magee?” 

“Yes, ma’am; but I ain’t the same I was 


108 


god’s sovereign power. 


two weeks ago. ’Twas me got Jack back to 
drinking, last time: but Pm going to lielp 
liim leave off now. I can’t stop to tell you 
all about it, but I’ll tell some.” And, speak- 
ing rapidly, lie gave a general outline of the 
events which had wrought such a change in 
his habits. “ I’ve been one of the worst,” he 
said in conclusion. “ I’m trying to do better 
now, but I’ve got a hard row to hoe. I can 
help Jack, though, if the others bully him. 
May be you’d like some of these tracts,” he 
said, after a short silence; and, taking a 
package from his pocket, he gave Mrs. 
Wetherbee a liberal supply. “ They’re some 
a young man that’s sick wanted I should 
give away for him. If you want anything 
of me, Jack, leave word at Lion’s Mouth, 
and I’ll be on hand. You can trust Patsy.” 

“ Guess I’ve done one job for Wilbur 
Kichards, to-night,” soliloquized Tom, as he 
hurried through the streets, across the bridge, 
and up the river path. a Who’d thought 
of my turning tract-pcddler ! ” Ten o’clock. 


god’s sovereign power. 


109 


Too late for any call on his way. His mother 
must be relieved from her weary watch. 

“I’m so glad you’ve come,” she said joy- 
fully. “I was afraid.” 

“Ho wonder, mother; though there wasn’t 
nothing to be afraid of for me. I’m all 
right. How, go up-stairs, and sleep like a 
top, if yon know how that is.” 

It was no easy task to care for Jim Magee 
in his helplessness, although a wholesome fear 
of consequences restrained him from savage 
outbreaks. lie was provided with everything 
necessary for his comfort. Hothing was 
denied him except the liquor which he most 
craved ; and this it was impossible for him 
to obtain. Ilis old associates kept aloof 
from him. Dr. Hibbard w T ould not provide 
it unless sure of remuneration. Tom, who 
had taken occasion to say that he would never 
pay for a drop of the poison stuff, wished 
to dismiss the tippling doctor and call in 
another ; but his father swore that no other 
should darken the doors. 


110 


god’s sovereign power. 


Meanwhile, enquiries were made for Kate 
Moran. In one of liis rounds, Tom was ac- 
costed by a respectable-looking woman, who 
asked him if he could tell her anything 
about Duke Moran’s little girl. 

“Yes, ma’am,” he answered. “I can tell 
you that she has a good home, and is well 
taken care of.” 

“Where?” 

“At Lion’s Mouth, the other side of the 
river. She lives with a poor woman ; hut 
she’ll have what she needs, and there 
needn’t anybody worry about her.” 

The woman looked at Tom a little sus- 
piciously as she said : “ I’d like to go and 
see her. I used to know her mother when 
we were girls. I heard she went off with 
you, after you threw a stone that hurt her 
arm.” 

“Yes, ma’am, she did. I didn’t mean to 
hurt her, and I don’t know what made me 
take her with*. me, only I was afraid there’d 
be trouble. I wish you would go and see 


god’s sovereign TOWER. Ill 

lier; she’ll be glad to see you if you knew 
her mother. She don’t seem to have many 
friends.” 

“ She’s got relations enough, uncles, aunts, 
and cousins, plenty of them; but, you see, 
they wouldn’t have anything to do with her 
mother after she married Duke. He was 
smart, but he was poor ; and they wanted 
her to marry a rich man, as she might. 
Then, when Duke took to drinking as he 
did, they acted as though she never be- 
longed to them. I used to work at her 
father’s, so I know all about it.” 

“Yes, ma’am,” replied Tom, not quite 
sure whether he was glad or sorry that 
there were those who had a right to claim 
Kate Moran. A week before, he would 
have been angry at the very thought of 
this; now, he was beginning to realize how 
much depended upon her proper training 
and education. Mrs. Richards had visited 
the child with the intention of offering her 
a home, yet leaving her without doing so. 


112 


god’s sovereign tower. 


“ Little Kate is doing a good work,” re- 
marked tlie lady, upon lier return. “ At 
present, it is best for lier and all concerned 
that she should remain where she is.” 

“ But, mother, she needs to be taught 
many things she can never learn at Mrs. 
Quinn’s,” was urged in reply. 

“ Perhaps so ; but for this winter she is 
in the right place. Six months may work 
a wondrous change.” 

“ Yes, mother, six months will work a 
wondrous change in the natural world. 
The earth will have put on her beautiful 
garment. Flowers will blossom, and birds 
sing. I wish I could believe that the 
moral change in our new friends will be 
as great.” 

“Are you losing faith?” asked Mrs. Rich- 
ards smilingly 

“ Oh ! no,” was the cheerful reply. “ I 
am only a little disappointed ; but I shall 
soon forget it. I can wait six months 
for the fulfilment of my hopes.” 


god’s sovereign power. 


113 

“ Do you know wlmt your hopes really 
are, Wilbur?” 

“In a general way, mother. They will 
take a more definite form as they tend to 
fulfilment. I know that I hope all things 
good for Tom Magee.” 

So did the poor fellow hope for himself; 
although he was thinking and hoping 
nearly as much for others as for himself. 
Jackson Wetherbee, to whom he seemed as 
a tower of strength, waited for him at street- 
corners, just to hear an encouraging word 
or catch a genial smile. “ All right ? ” was 
a question sometimes asked, to be answered 
by the same phrase differently emphasized, 
while the two passed on, each his own 
way. 

Every morning, Tom went to the wood- 
yard : every evening, he carried to his 
poor home some needed comfort ; carried, 
also, a softened heart and improved man- 
ners. His calls were ' short at Lion’s 
Mouth, shorter than he would have de- 


l.U 


god’s sovereign power. 


sired; jet lie found ojiportunities to tell 
Patsy Quinn whatever slie desired to know 
of his welfare. Kate Moran’s interests were 
discussed with great earnestness. 

u It don’t seem as though I could get 
along without her,” said the woman. “I’d 
be willing to work a good deal harder for 
the sake of havin’ her around. It don’t 
seem to cost anything to keep her. Mis 
Bichard s give her some clothes, and I’m 
going to do the rest. You’ve got enough 
on jour hands without her. The old man’s 
going to be a bill of expense, and he can’t 
help it if he wants to. Your mother’s got 
to have something to wear. Wait till I’ve 
got through ! ” now exclaimed the speaker, 
eager to meet all objections to her plans be- 
fore they were uttered. “ You’ve got some 
back rent to pay on the old place; and you 
want some provisions in the cellar, now it’s 
banked up. Your mother told me how 
hard you worked nights to do that. You’re 
a good boy, Tom, if I do say it to your 


god’s sovereign power. 


115 


face. I wouldn’t believed you’d made tlie 
kitchen look so well with the new paper. 
’Twas a bright thought in you, instead of 
covering the cracks with newspapers. You 
make the money you earn go a good ways.” 

“Yes; and that’s just the reason I can do 
something for Kate,” replied Tom quickly. 

“ But you want some new clothes for 
yourself,” was the response.. “You’ll want 
to go to meeting Sundays. Your mother’s 
took to mending ; but you’ll want one de- 
cent suit without patches. And there’s the 
doctor’s bill. Your mother’s talking about 
trying to earn some moliey.” 

“ She won’t do it while I can work,” said 
the young man decidedly. “ She’s got 
enough to do at home; and if she can’t be 
comfortable there, I’ll complain of father, 
and have him shut up. I’ve told him so, 
and I’ll do as I say. ’T would be better for 
him than living as he has the last live 
years.” 

“ Yes, Tom, ’most anything’s better’n 


110 


god’s sovereign power. 


that. It’s been hard living up your way ; 
and now it don’t seem possible that you’re 
the same lad that went swearing, about, 
drunk half the time, and likely to get into 
all kinds of scrapes. You mean to hold out, 
don’t you?” 

“I’ve got to, Patsy. I’ve took the oath, 
and that means something to me now. 
Put I’m most wild when I think of all 
that’s happened. I've helped pull down so 
many other boys, just for the sake of seeing 
what I could do. And — and — there’s some- 
thing else, Patsy. I’m afraid of God. Did 
you ever feel afraid of God ?” 

“I don’t know, Tom. I don’t think much 
about God. Leastways I didn’t till since Katy 
come here. She talks about him, and says 
she loves him. She ain’t afraid of him.” 

“Ho more should she he. What’s she 
ever done to make her afraid? It’s' because 
I’m so wicked. When I read the tracts, 
sometimes I want to burn them all up, and 
I most hate God. Then I’m ready to get 


god’s sovereign POWER. 117 

down on my knees, and ask liim to forgive 
mo for everything I’ve done that’s wrong. 
I do believe I’d do that if I could see him 
as I see you, and I’d hold on to him till he 
answered me one way or another. It’s so 
strange that we can’t never be out of his 
sight, when we can’t see him. It’s dreadful 
wicked, but I’ve wished lately, a good many 
times, that there wa’n’t any God.” 

Tom Magee said this last under his breath, 
as though it was of some strange thing he 
spoke ; and yet his was not an unusual ex- 
perience. When first the sinner feels his 
utter helplessness to atone for past wrong- 
doing— feels, also, the presence of an offended 
God, whom he has no power to propitiate, 
he is. fain to wish that such a God did not 
exist. The sinful heart rebels; and as with 
each succeeding hour of serious thought the 
burden of guilt presses more heavily, con- 
flicting emotions struggle for the mastery. 

This young man, whose ignorance of 
spiritual tilings was no greater than that of 


118 


god's sovereign power. 


many another, was just awaking from a life- 
long lethargy. How he loathed himself as 
wholly vile! “I ain’t done no good all my 
life,” he said, in his homely way. lie didn’t 
mind making this acknowledgment to Patsy, 
from whom he had never cared to conceal 
his wickedness. 

“But you’ll do better now, and that’ll 
make it all right. So don’t fret over it,” 
was the reply of his- friend. 

“ That won’t help wliat’s ’ready done, 
Patsy. You see, if all the things are wrote 
down against me in a book somewhere, I 
can’t rub them out.” 

“Wrote down! What do you mean by 
that? Who wrote them?” 

“ God,” answered Tom solemnly. “ That’s 
what Wilbur Pi chard s told me, and he knows.” 

“ Yes, he knows,” echoed Patsy. “ But 
it don’t seem as though it could be. Y r ou 
don’t suppose every word we speak, and 
every single little thing we do, is wrote 
down, do you ?” 


god’s sovereign power. 


119 


“ He said so ; and all we think, too ; so 
there ain’t no way of getting rid of it. It’s 
hard, ain’t it, for such a boy as I’ve been?” 

“ I'm ’most a mind not to believe it, if he 
did say so,” exclaimed the poor woman. 

“ But he says it’s in the Bible,” was Tom’s 
response. “ The Bible’s all true. Katy 
knows about it. You ask her, and she’ll tell 
you more.” 

“ Seems to me I don’t want to hear no 
more. I’m just as wicked as you be, Tom ; 
and perhaps I’m wickeder. May be, if I’d 
always done right, things wouldn’t be as 
they are now. Do try and be good now, 
my lad, and not break your mother’s heart. 
Poor woman! She’s had a hard time; but 
she’s better off now. I know that, and I’m 
glad of it. We’re all better off since you 
found Katy.” 

“Yes; good-night. Mother’ll be expect- 
ing me.” 

Mother had something new to display 
that evening. A bit of a rug which she hac) 


1*20 


god’s sovereign power. 


braided at odd times lay before the stove, 
and gave quite an air of comfort to the 
room. 

“It’s nice-looking, and the floor’s clean, 
and we’ve got a good fire and a good sup- 
per,” said Tom, enumerating their com- 
forts. “I wouldn’t be put back where we 
was six weeks ago, for a pile of money.” 

“I’d rather die,” responded Mrs. Magee 
earnestly. “ I'd gone on that way long as 
I could.” 

“Well, mother, we won’t go that way 
any more. I've said it, and I’ll stick to it. 
There’s one way, if there ain’t another. 
There won’t much more liquor come into 
this old shell while we live in it, and there 
won’t none of my wages be spent at the grog- 
shop.” 

The father heard this in the little bed- 
room to which he was still confined, and 
gnashed his teeth in impotent rage. lie 
could not understand Tom. There was 
something strange about the boy, and, angry 


god’s sovereign power. 


121 


as he was at the authority to which he was 
forced to submit, lie could not but respect it. 
If there had ever been anything like tender- 
ness in his nature, it could not fail now to 
give some token of its existence; and, truth 
to tell, there were times when his manner 
was slightly subdued, and the tones of his 
voice less harsh than usual. 

When Tom read aloud to his mother, his 
father listened. Indeed the drunkard could not 
well do otherwise, and listening, he could not 
but reflect upon what he heard. One evening, 
after so long a silence that he half fancied him- 
self dreaming, some bitter words spoken by 
Tom rang in his ear with startling emphasis : 

“ If there wa’n’t nobody but you and I, 
mother, there’d be a chance for us. I don’t 
hate father as J used to, but I can’t make it 
seem right that I should be kept down by 
him. Wilbur Richards says his father was 
’most perfect, and likely that’s what makes 
him so good. I ain’t to blame for father’s 
being a drunkard, but it’s just like a stone 


122 


god's sovereign power. 


round my neck, now I’m trying to do bet- 
ter. I feel it all the time.” 

“ Don’t be discouraged,” was all poor 
Mrs. Magee could say, although her heart 
was full of pity and sorrow for her son. 

“I ain’t discouraged, mother. I’m going 
ahead,” said Tom resolutely. “ If I was 
a Christian, I shouldn’t care for anything 
else. If I was sure God would forgive all 
my • sins, I’d be willing to work night and 
day. All these tracts say that’s the first 
thing to be thought of, and I believe it.” 

“ O Tom ! you find out the way, and 
tell me,” exclaimed his mother. “ I want 
to have my sins forgiven, too. If I could 
feel like some you read about, Hwouldn’t 
make no difference about other things. 
You find out how ’tis, won’t you?” 

What could he say but “ yes ” ? What 
could he do but repeat the instructions he 
had himself received ? Wilbur Richards had 
told him that he must pray. 

■‘Have you ever prayed, Tom?” 


god’s sovereign power. 


123 


“I’ve tried, mother; but I made poor 
work.” 

“ And, oh! Tom, did you ask for me, too?” 

“ I tried ; and I asked God to make 
father better, too.” 

A sigh of relief escaped the poor woman 
as she looked wistfully at her son, as 
though from him was to come all her help 
and her salvation. £< I found some leaves 
of an old Testament in the lower bureau 
drawer, to-day, and I read them all through.” 

“ I didn’t know there was any in the 
house.” 

“ I didn’t, either. But it's part of a 
Testament my Sunday-school teacher give 
nfe.” 

“ Did you ever go to Sunday-school?” 
asked Tom, with much surprise. 

“ Only a little while,” she answered. 
“’Twas before I got acquainted with your 
father. He made fun of such things, and 
I staid away to please him. ’Twould been 
better if I hadn’t. My teacher was a good 


124 


god’s sovereign power. . 


woman, and I remember some she said to 
me, though I liain’t thought of it before 
to-day for a good many years.” 

Several times, Jim Magee was upon the 
point of interrupting this conversation; but, 
warned by the past, he remained silent. 
Later, when he heard Tom praying, in low 
whispered words, his astonishment was un- 
bounded. Ilis boy praying! “Getting 
pious ! 5 T wouldn’t last long.” He was 

sure of that. 

Others were of the same opinion in regard 
to the young man who had so suddenly 
and so strangely abandoned his- old habits. 
Even Wilbur Hicliards feared a return to 
dissipation and idleness, notwithstanding the 
repeated assurances he had received. Mr. 
Iiiley experienced a new surprise each morn- 
ing when Tom appeared, ready for the 
day’s work, asking no leave of absence, and 
shirking no duty. At first, he had watched 
his assistant closely; now, he was relaxing 
this watch, and, hot hearing complaints from 


god’s sovereign power. 


125 


customers, thought himself fortunate in se- 
curing such help. 

The Owls did not forget Tom. They 
formed various plans for luring him back to 
their companionship, all of which failed, and 
yet they did not despair. If he would drink 
one glass of liquor, they could accomplish 
their purpose. At length, fortune seemed 
to favor them. They met at a tire, worked 
on the same engine, and together won great 
praise for their strength and daring. 

At such a time, Tom Magee was a host 
in himself, and on this occasion he did his 
best. In the excitement of the moment, 
he forgot everything but present needs and 
interests. lie was thirsty, and, a mug of ale 
being offered, he drained it to the last drop. 
His thirst was increased, and it was not until 
after the second draught that he realized his 
folly. “My God!” lie exclaimed, as the hot 
blood coursed through his veins, and the old 
appetite craved indulgence ; yet his voice joined 
in the wild cheers of those about him. 


126 


god’s sovereign power. 


By great exertions, tlie fire had been 
staid at a large block, in tlie basement of 
which was the most fashionable drinking 
saloon of the city. Such as Tom Magee 
were not admitted within its precincts. 
Only the well dressed and well connected 
were allowed to enter. No cheap drinks 
were sold to the poor and ragged. Captain 
Blood prided himself upon the respectability 
of his establishment. A young man could 
frequent his rooms without losing caste in 
society. The captain himself was genial 
and smiling; careful of his reputation, and 
the reputation of others ; always speaking of 
his customers as “ fine young men.” lie 
was ready at all times to denounce drunken- 
ness, while he manufactured drunkards by 
the score. During the ten years he had 
been engaged in his present business, he had 
seen many a one to whom he had once 
bowed graciously, degraded to a brutal sot ; 
yet lie smiled on, counting his gains, and 
ensnaring his victims. 


god’s SOVEREIGN' POWER. 


127 


On the night in question, he was princely 
in his hospitality. At least so said the 
papers of the following day. The firemen 
were invited to partake of refreshments in 
his saloon. “ Itoom for all,” he cried ; and 
the motley crowd gave way, as one after 
another wearing the fireman’s badge pressed 
down the granite steps. 

Tom Magee went with others. For one 
hour, at least, he was the peer of many 
whose social position he had envied. “ The 
boys” complimented him upon the risks he 
had encountered and the daring he had 
manifested. 

“We lost a plucky fellow when Duke 
Moran got his sentence ; but you’ll make 
his place good,” remarked one with an oath. 
“When he was sober, he’d do the work of 
two men; and drunk or sober, he was fire- 
proof. He needn't be afraid of anything 
hotter than lie’s been through in this world, 
and come out without being scorched.” 

A coarse laugh rewarded the speaker, but 


123 


god’s sovereign power. 


Tom did not join in this laugh. The allu- 
sion to Duke Moran suggested thoughts of 
little Kate, of Patsy, of his mother, of 
Wilbur Richards, and of the solemn oath 
by which he had pledged himself to total 
abstinence. lie did not stay to hear another 
word. Forcing his way up the steps, he 
rushed on, regardless of fiiend or foe. At 
length, his name was shouted by Jack 
Wetherbee, and his steps were arrested. 

“ Do stop,” cried the boy. “ I want you 
to go home with me,” was added in a lower 
tone, as they stood side by side. “ Mother’s 
got some hot coffee and oysters. I told her 
you was working like a tiger, and she 
thought you’d be hungry. I saw you go 
into Blood’s, and I was real sorry; but you 
didn’t stay?” 

“ No, I didn’t, Jack. ’Tain’t no place for 
me. They’ll half of them be drunk before 
an hour. . They’ll get started there, and 
finish off somewhere else. Where’ ve you 
been ? I didn’t see you.” 


god's sovereign power. 


129 


“I’ve been round where I could see you,” 
was the reply. “ Come, now, mother’s ex- 
pecting you. I told her you’d come.” 

“ I don’t know as it’s best,” said Tom hesi- 
tatingly. “ I ought to go home.” 

“ I know T , and that’s enough,” responded 
Jack. “ I bought the oysters with my own 
money, and mother knows how to cook them 
tip-top. We’ll have supper as good as the 
rest.” 

This settled the matter, and Tom turned 
back. The supper was as good as had been 
anticipated, and Mrs. Wetherbee was glad to 
see him. “ Better set here than in a worse 
place,” she said. “ There’ll be a good many 
mothers anxious about their boys to-night, 
and I know how to pity them.” 

“But, mother, you know you needn’t 
worry about me any more,” exclaimed her 
boy, with sparkling eyes. “ I cau’t be coaxr 
ed, and I don’t mean to give the boys a 
chance to drive me. Tom, ycux’re growing 
handsome,” he added in the same breath. 


130 


god’s sovereign power. 


“ True as the world, you are. I hope I’ll be 
big as you are, and as good.” 

“I hope you’ll be a great deal better. 
I’m only trying.” And Tom blushed at the 
remembrance of his weakness in drinking 
the ale which had been offered him. lie 
had not been accustomed to class this with 
'intoxicating liquors, but from its effects he 
knew it was no drink for him. Thinking 
of this, and forgetful of his duties as a guest, 
he sat silent and motionless. 

“ Wliat’s the matter?” asked Jack. 
“Don’t you like oysters and coffee?”* 

“ Of course I do,” was the reply. “ But 
I was thinking. I’ve got into a bad habit 
of thinking when I ought to be doing some- 
thing else.” 

“Why, you think all the time, don’t you, 
Tom ? I do, and I can’t help it. I don’t want 
to, either, now. I’m so glad and happy, I 
don’t know just what to do with myself. 
Ain’t you happy, Tom ?” All this in a 
breath, and then the boy waited for an an- 


GOB'S SOVEREIGN TOWER. 131 

swer, which was given after some hesita- 
tion. 

“ Sometimes I am, when I’m working as 
hard as I can ; but I’ve a good deal to re- 
member that ain’t pleasant.” 

“We all have,” now said Mrs. Wether- 
bee. “Jackson is so light-hearted just now, 
that he can’t look on the dark side. He’s 
getting on finely in school, and he’s found a 
place to work two hours a day, so he feels 
very independent.” 

“Yes, sir, I do,” added the boy. “Mother 
liain’t told the whole story, either. I get 
dinner and supper, so she don’t have so 
much to do ; and I wash the dishes and 
sweep the floor. I’ve got all the tracts laid 
up that you gave me, though they’re pretty 
much worn out. All the folks in the house 
have read them. Do have some more oysters 
and another cup of coffee.” 

“Ho;‘ I thank you. I’ve eaten plenty, 
and I’m much obliged to you for a nice sup- 
per. I must go home, now. Mother’ll be 


132 


GOD S SOVEREIGN TOWER. 


anxious. Can I do anything for yon, 
Jack ?” 

“ Guess not. I don’t have much trouble. 
I’m always busy, so the boys don’t have a 
chance at me; and, lately, they don’t seem 
to care.” 

“ I’m glad of that,” replied Tom, smiling 
pleasantly ; and then, rising to go, he 
thanked Mrs. Wetherbee for her kindness. 

“ You are very welcome to anything I can 
do for you,” she answered. “ I shall never 
forget what 3^911 have done for Jack; and 
now, if you’ll stay and visit with him a few 
minutes, I’ll go down-stairs and talk with 
our neighbors a little.” 

The visitor wondered at this ; but no 
sooner were they alone than Jack exclaimed, 
“ That’s some of my doings. I’ve got some- 
thing to tell you, though perhaps it won’t 
make any difference whether you know it 
or not. The boys are trying to get you into 
trouble. They’ve got a new fellow from 
Boston, and lie’s up to all sorts of deviltry. 


GOD a SOVEREIGN POWER. 


133 


You know 'there’s some tools with your 
name marked on them, and Rob Morrison 
says ’twouldn’t be strange if they’re found 
somewhere some time, to make folks, think 
you left them. Rob j wouldn’t told, only be- 
cause you pulled him : out of the river, last 
summer.” 

“Much obliged to him,” was the reply. 
“Rob’s got a heart if he is bad. Is that 
all you wanted of me, Jack?” 

“ Ro, not quite,” answered the boy. “ I 
want you to go to Sabbath-school with me. 
There’s a new class, with only two of us in 
it, and the teacher says it must be filled up 
from outside. I want you to come and see 
if you don’t like it. We hear lots of good 
talking, recite our lessons, and have good 
books to read.” 

“I never ’went to Sabbath-scliool in my 
life,” said Tom. “I shouldn’t know how to^ 
behave, and I don’t know no more about the 

• f 

Bible than a Hottentot. I couldn’t learn the 
lessons. Your mother helps you, don’t she ?” 


]31 god’s sovereign power. 

“Yes; wouldn’t your mother help you?” 

Poor Tom shook his head, saying, “We’re 
all heathen at our house, only for what I’ve 
learned lately. Somebody else asked me to 
go to Sabbatli-school, and I’ll see about it 
when I get some decent clothes. Why don’t 
you ask Pob Morrison? His folks belong 
to the meeting kind. lie’s got a sister 
that’s a real good woman.” 

“I will ask him,” said Jack decidedly. 
“ Blit you won’t get him into trouble for 
telling?” 

“Ho danger of that,” v T as the reply. 
“Tell him I’m much obliged, and, if he 
wants anything of me, he can come over. 
So can you. Good-night.” 

The confusion incident to the tire had not 
subsided when Tom Magee found himself 
once more in the street. By this time many 
of the firemen were intoxicated, and, before 
he crossed the bridge, Tom was called upon 
to assist two to their homes.” 

“Ain’t drunk yourself, be you?” said one, 


god’s sovereign tower. 


135 


who was answered so decidedly that he 
looked at his companion to assure himself 
that he was not mistaken in the person. 
“ Heard something about your turning over 
a new leaf, but thought likely you’d got 
over it by this time. Got awful dry to- 
night, didn't you ? There’ll be a row when 
I get home; Always is when men folks 
take a little comfort their own way. "Women 
don’t know nothing about it. Tell you, 
Tom, we must stand up for our rights, and 
not let ’em git the upper-hand. If they do, 
they’ll keep us dry as a last year’s mullen 
stalk.” 

Judging by the laughter which greeted 
this last remark, it must have been consid- 
ered by some extremely witty, but to Tom 
it was simply disgusting, and as soon as pos- 
sible he hastened away. 

There was a light in Patsy’s window, and, 
knowing that she would think of him, he 
stopped long enough to tell her something 
of the fire, and assure her that he was all 


136 


god’s sovereign power. 


right. Nearly the same words said to his 
mother relieved her anxiety ; and as for his 
father, the fire was of more consequence than 
the welfare of a son. 

Weeks went by. No one appeared to 
claim Kate Moran ; and only the one woman 
who had known her mother called at her 
new home. The child, wanting for nothing, 
was happy as she could be while her father 
was in that terrible prison. Her health was 
fairly established, the injured arm had re- 
gained its strength, and she was like a sun- 
beam in the house of her protector. Very 
useful she was, too, earning her own living, 
as her kind friend assured her, and making 
so many people happy. The anticipation of 
attending school in the summer sufficed for 
present enjoyment, and, when x\unt Patsy 
promised to go to meeting with her some 
time, she was jubilant. No fear but she 
would be suitably clothed. Mrs. Richards 
had a care for that, and by the kindness of 
this lady the child was supplied with such 


god’s sovereign power. 137 

books as she could understand. Tom Magee 
saw less of her than he wished, but the 
thought of his responsibility in regard to her 
was a strong influence to keep him in the 
path of duty. Let none of my readers sup* 
pose it was easy for him to withstand tempta- 
tion. The reckless spirit so long indulged 
sometimes half mastered him, and in hours 
of despondency the cravings of his appetite 
were almost irresistible. His perseverance 
was a w T dnder, as Wilbur Kichards often 
said when speaking of him. 

“ Tom has a hard time of it,” remarked 
this friend, after a prolonged interview, in 
which the former spoke freely of his trials. 
“1 wish he could have a fair chance in the 
world. lie is just beginning to feel his ignor- 
ance, and says he must study. His father 
is a terrible drawback to him in every way. 
As he gains strength, he grows ugly. If he 
could get hold of any money, he would find 
a way to spend it for liquor.” 

“ I hope Tom will be able to control his 


god's sovereign tower. 


138 

own wages,” responded Mrs. Richards 
thoughtfully. “Ilis father can legally claim 
them, and, should he do so, it would be 
the hardest thing the young man will have 
to bear.” 

“ lie won't bear it,” was the reply. 
“We’ve talked it over, and that’s settled.” 

Jim Magee, looking forward to the time 
when he could walk, resolved to assert his 
authority as a lather, take Tom’s earnings, 
and spend them as he pleased. '“He’d see 
if he was going to be ruled by a boy and a 
woman all his life.” 

This he said, one morning, as he limped 
painfully across the floor, then cursed him- 
self, his family, and the doctor. A good 
breakfast had been prepared for him, but 
he stood looking from the window, and 
calculating how soon the snow would dis- 
appear. Suddenly he turned, and with a 
fearful oath swore he would have some 
liquor. “ I’ll go to Murphy’s if it kills me. 
I don’t want nothing to eat. I’ve been in 


god’s sovereign power. 


139 


liell all winter ; now I'll find something to 
cool my tongue.” 

Seizing hat and crutches, he left the 
house, and, if his strength had been equal to 
his will, he would have walked rapidly. As 
it was, however, he moved slowly, and 
hardly had he started when Patsy Quinn saw 
him. Divining his purpose, and charging 
Kate to admit no one during her absence, 
she made haste to inform Tom that his 
father was on the road. “ Look out, now !” 
she added, with a shake of her head. 

“I will,” was the reply. “ Just wait till 
I see Mr. Riley; I shall want you.” 

Mr. Riley understood the matter at once, 
and not only paid to his assistant wliat was 
then due, but also advanced a day’s wages, 
every cent of which was placed in the hands 
of Patsy Quinn, who was again at home be- 
fore the lame man had reached her house. 
She hated the very sight of Jim Magee, 
and despised him heartily; yet she waited 
to speak with him. 


140 


god’s SOVEREIGN l'OWER. 


“ Good-morning,” slie said pleasantly. “ I 
didn’t expect to see you out so soon ; 
tliouglit you’d wait till the snow was gone. 
We’ll likely have good walking before long.” 

“Yes,” answered the tired man, resting 
upon his crutches. “ I couldn’t stay shut lip 
no longer, though it’s tough work for me to 
walk. That devil of a doctor made a 
crooked leg for me.” 

.“ That drunken doctor, you mean,” re- 
joined Patsy. “ Strange you should trust a 
drunkard when you know so much about 
them ! Won’t you come in and rest 
awhile? I had to go out, this morning, 
but I left the coffee-pot on the stove. A 
cup of coffee always seems to do me good. 
Come in, and have some ; you’ll get home 
the better for it.” 

Magee w^as indignant ; yet, withal, so 
tired, it seemed impossible for him to take 
another step. Without saying a word, he 
passed through the door which was opened 
for him. “It’s a good while since you’ve 


god's sovereign power. 


in 


been to Lion’s Moutli before,” remarked his 
hostess, nothing daunted by his sullen looks. 
“ You’ve had a hard siege of it. I don’t 
know nothing how you’d got along, if you 
hadn’t had such a good boy. Tom’s im- 
proved wonderful ! working early and late 
to keep you and his mother. Set right up to 
the table, and have some coffee. I thought, 
one spell, you’d die; and I liain’t a doubt 
but what you w r ould, if Tom hadn’t made 
you so comfortable. He’s got his name up 
for being the smartest lad this side the river. 
Don’t drink a drop, and works steady as 
an old man. He made up his mind to it ; 
and, when he makes up his mind, folks may 
know it means something. I shouldn’t 
wonder if lie turned out a rich man. 
’T wouldn’t be no stranger than a good 
many things.” 

“Ho; ’most anything happens,” answered 
the hitherto silent man. “ Tom’s well 
enough in his place. I want to get down 
to Riley’s yard, .and find out what kind of 


112 


god’s sovereign power. 


a bargain lie’s made. He ain't quite a man 
yet, and needs looking after.” 

“ Yon mean lie ain’t twenty-one,” sug- 
gested Mrs. Quinn. “ Anybody’ d think lie 
was, though, to look at him and see him 
work. He knows how to take care of 
himself.” 

“Where’s your boy, Patsy?” This was 
a cruel question, and therefore was it asked. 

“ I don’t know,” answered the unhappy 
mother, after some hesitation. “Dead, may 
be; and if he is, Pm some to blame for it. 
1 loved him, but I didn’t tell him his duty 
as I ought to. If I’d read the Bible to him, 
and told him how God loves us, he might 
been different. Poor boy ! I don’t blame 
him for going off. He couldn’t live with 
his father. The boy had a right to leave a 
drunken father.” 

“He’d be thirty years old, if lie’s living,” 
said the man, than whom none had been 
more recreant to his duty as a father. 

“’Most thirty-two. He’s been s;one fif- 


god's sovereign power. 


143 


teen years, and lie was as old as Tom when 
he went away. I dreamed about him last 
night — dreamed he come back. I tell you, 
Jim Magee, it’s a dreadful thing to feel you 
liain’t done right by your children ! It’s bad 
enough to ruin ourselves, soul and body.” 

“ What’s got into you ? ” now exclaimed 
the w T retched man, pushing back his chair 
from the table, and regarding his companion 
with a strangely puzzled look. 

“’Tain’t whiskey nor the devil!” was the 
reply. “ That’s what gets into some people. 
When you was a young man, you wa’n’t so 
bad as some others ; but lately you’ve acted 
like one possessed. I wish you’d turn 
round, now, and be a decent man.” 

“You can’t learn old dogs new tricks,” 
replied Jim Magee, with a malicious grin. 
“I’m much obleeged for your preaching and 
your coffee.” 

From Lion’s Mouth, the speaker went to 
the wood-yard, where he hobbled up to Mr. 
Hiley, and announced his errand. 


god’s sovereign power. 


1U 

u Don’t owe your boy a cent,” was the 
answer he received. “lie takes up his 
wages as he goes along. lie’s had quite a 
family to support, this winter.” 

“ Well, well,” said the disappointed man. 
“ For time to come, I'll take what he earns; 
it belongs to me.” 

“I guess not, Magee; I made the bargain 
with Tom, and, as long as he does the work, 
lie’s the one to have the pay. Don't try to 
make a fuss ; if you do, you’ll get the worst 
of it. ’T wouldn’t be a hard matter for your 
boy to get clear of you by law. lie’s made 
some good friends that won't see him 
abused.” 

Tom, coming into the counting-room, said 
to his father coldly; “You hadn’t ought to 
walked here, this morning. It will put you 
back more than vou’ve gained for a month. 
I’m going up the river with the team, and 
you can ride home.” 

“ I sha’n’t ride. When I'm ready to go 
home, I can go without asking your leave.” 


god's sovereign power. 


145 


Forgetting all prudence, tlie speaker added: 
“ We’ll see wlio’s going to be master.” 

Ilis next visit was to Murphy’s, where, 
promising to pay for his liquor when Tom’s 
wages were paid, he found no difficulty in. 
procuring all he desired. Before noon, he 
was so intoxicated that his presence was 
intolerable even in that vile den; and his 
son passing the door, the proprietor shouted, 
“ Tom Magee, come and take care of your 
father! He’s drunk, and we ean’t have him 
around here in the way.” 

“Who made him drunk?” asked Tom 
“ Made himself drunk,” was the reply. 
“’Tain’t nothing to me what my customers 
do, if they only pay up. Heard you said 
you wouldn’t never come into my store 
again. ’Tain’t best to make such promises, 
if you do feel smart. Guess you’ll have to 
come in now; the old man can’t stand no 
more’n a jumping-jack.” 

Only the crack of a whip answered - this, 
and Murphy stood staring into the street 


146 


god’s sovereign power. 


with dumb surprise. “ We’ll see,” lie mut- 
tered, and, giving a backward glance to the 
room where a tierce-looking dog kept guard, 
started for Riley’s vrood-yard. There, busily 
at work, was Tom, who gave no heed to 
the exclamations of anger lavished upon him. 

“ Ain’t you coming to take the old man 
out of my way?” was asked at length. 

“No, sir, I’ve something ' else to do,” an- 
swered the young man coolly. “I’ve been 
paid for a full day’s work, and I mean to 
do it. If you’ve got into trouble, you’ll 
have to get yourself out, for all of me.” 

Murphy, excited by liquor, sprang towards 
Tom Magee, when a well-directed blow 
felled him to the ground. “Served him 
right!” was the verdict of the bystanders. 
Tom’s conscience did not trouble him, 
neither had he any fears of the threatened 
vengeance; yet, as the hours went by, he 
thought of his father. Was it his duty to 
take the drunken man home ? lie v r as 
sorely tried, yet he wished to do right. 


god’s sovereign power. 


147 


Fortunately, lie was obliged to pass tlie 
house of Mrs. Richards; and, looking up to 
Wilbur’s favorite window, he saw his friend, 
wlio beckoned him to stop. “I’ve been 
hoping you’d come,” was the greeting he 
received. “ There’s a family in the base- 
ment of the yellow house, poor as can be, 
and mother wishes to send them a basket of 
food. The man is such a drunkard that it 
wouldn’t be safe for mother to go. Will 
you go?” 

“Yes, sir, I’ll go this evening. I’ll do 
anything to please you, but it’s my opinion 
you’d better get the man out of the. way. 
He hain’t no right to drag his family down 
to hell.” 

“ He can’t do that,” Wilbur Richards made 
reply, looking anxiously at his companion. 

“Drunkards have done it,” said Tom, in 
an excited tone. “Their children, any way, 
don’t have half a chance to get to heaven. 
You sec, they’re born ugly, and they can’t 
help it. Then there ain’t no chance for the 


148 


god’s sovereign tower. 


poor tilings afterwards. I tell you, I hate 
a drunkard anywhere ! I don’t care whether 
he wears broadcloth or slieep’s-gray, I hate 
him! He’s worse than anybody else, except 
the man that sells him liquor, and they’re 
both too mean to live.” 

“ What is it, my friend ? Is there any 
trouble at home?” 

“ There must be, by this time,” was the 
reply. “I’m sorry I run on so, but it’s the 
way I think, and I’ve been dreadfully 
stirred up, to-day. I want to tell you.” 

The story was soon told, and the question 
asked, “ What shall I do ?” 

“ Don’t you think it would be better to 
take your father home?” was asked in reply. 
“ I know it is hard, and I pity you, but it 
seems to me you ought to take him home. 
You know we hope he will reform. All 
things are possible with God. Come and see 
me this evening.” 

“ Yes, sir, I will. I’ll need to by that 
time. And I’ll carry the basket.” 





god’s sovereign tower. 


149 


A little before dark Mr. Riley entered 
Murphy’s rum-sliop and enquired for Jim 
Magee. 

“ I don’t know where he is,” growled the 
proprietor. . “ I kicked him into the back- 
room, this forenoon, and hain’t seen him 
since. May be he is in there now.” 

Mr. Riley looked into the back-room, and 
there, vainly struggling to rise from the filthy 
floor, was the object of his search. “ Want 
some help, don’t you ? Here, take your 
crutches while I give you a pull. Had a 
pretty hard bed. Here, Murphy, lend a 
helping hand. This man can’t walk, and, if 
lie’s the worse for wliat’s happened to-day, 
you’ll have to answer for it.” 

Startled by this, the rum-seller gave his 
assistance, and Jim Magee was lifted into 
the cart which was to convey him home. 
Hot a word was spoken during the un- 
comfortable drive. Tom would not speak, 
and his father was suffering too much to 
make conversation desirable. For once the 


150 


god’s sovereign power. 


drunkard was thoroughly mortified. lie had 
accomplished his purpose of obtaining li- 
quor, but he was paying dearly for it. 
Hever was the sight of home more wel- 
come. 

His son was obliged to carry him into the 
house, and it was a work of much difficulty 
to remove his soiled clothing. In doing this 
Mrs. Magee assisted, as also in helping him 
to the bed. 

“ Do you w r ant anything to eat ?” asked 
Tom, when all this had been done. 

“Ho,” was the sharp reply. 

“Perhaps you’d like some cold coffee,” 
said his wife timidly. 

“ Don’t want none of your slops,” he an- 
swered, with an oath. 

“Mother, put on your bonnet and shawl, 
and ride with me as far as Patsy’s. I’ll 
come back and look after father. lie won’t 
freeze, and this is no place for you. Come,” 
added Tom decidedly. “ I’ll take care of 
things.” 


god’s sovereign tower. 


151 


Mrs. Magee did not hesitate. Trusting 
her son’s judgment, she prepared to ac- 
company him, while her husband kept si- 
lence. 

The wretched man was left alone. His 
whole body quivered with pain. His nerves 
v r ere strung to the highest tension. Each 
sense was strangely acute, each faculty of 
his mind unnaturally active. 

Memory recalled the days of his child- 
hood, his early manhood, and the later days 
which had been so darkened by his brutal 
conduct. Wife and children had been to 
him only as chattels, subservient to his will, 
lie was to command, they to obey. 
He had acknowledged no responsibility, no 
accountability, to One who sitteth in the 
heavens. The death of his younger chil- 
dren had made no change in his life, except 
that he had fewer objects upon which to 
exercise his tyranny. 

Tom, fearless Tom, never quailed in his 
presence. It could not have been fear which 


152 


god’s sovereign power. 


prompted the care so lavishly bestowed upon 
him; and surely the boy could not love him. 
lie remembered the broken accents of 
prayer to which he had listened. Could it 
be that Tom was a Christian ? Yile and 
wicked as was this man, he knew there 
were Christians in the world — men and wo- 
men who forgave their enemies for Christ’s 
sake. Had he not been an enemy to his 
son ? Had he not doomed every member of 
his family to ignorance and want ? 

Baby faces, over which coffin-lids had 
closed, seemed gazing at him reproachfully, 
and in very agony of spirit he cried aloud. 
He could not, would not, lie there alone, 
tortured with maddening thoughts and ghost- 
ly fancies. Mental suffering so dulled his 
sense of physical pain that he forgot his 
weakness until he attempted to rise. Then, 
falling back upon the pillow, he covered his 
face, and wept. 


CHAPTER IY. 


SLOWLY BUT SUEELY GOD’s PUEPOSES AEE 
WEOUGHT. 

T would be difficult to analyze tlie 
feelings of Tom Magee as lie sat 
beside his mother on the rude seat. 
He did not attempt to do this. 
For the time he was utterly hopeless. 
Terribly angry, too, was he ; ready to de- 
nounce his father in unmeasured terms, yet 
he kept silence. 

“ What shall I do ? ” asked his mother as 
he helped her frQm the cart at Patsy’s door. 

“ Stay here till I come back,” was his 
reply. “I’ll see then.” 

“ Pretty hard on you, Tom,” said Mr. 
Riley. “I’m sorry for you, but don’t get 
discouraged. The old man won’t get out 
again very soon, if he ever does. ’Twouldn’t 



154 


SLOWLY BUT SBKELY 


be strange if lie’d finished himself up with 
Murphy’s help. Show yourself a man now, 
Tom, and don’t shirk your duty.” 

“I don’t want to,” answered the young 
man. “But who knows what my duty is? 
If you do, I wish you’d tell me.” 

“Well, ’tain’t your duty to earn money 
to buy liquor. ’Tain’t your duty, neither, 
to be knocked round by anybody ; but I 
guess you’d better try and make the old 
man comfortable as long as he can’t help 
himself. You’ll feel better about it if he 
dies. Don’t let him abuse your mother, 
though. If you’ Ye got to choose between 
them, take care of your mother.” 

“Yes, sir, I mean to. There ain’t much 
left of her, any way. It don’t seem as 
though she could ever been young.” 

“She has been, Tom, and she was called 
a good-looking girl. But she didn’t have 
no chance to be anybody before she w r as 
married; and she liain’t since. She’s al- 
ways had a drunkard to domineer over her ; 


god’s purposes are wrought. 


155 


first lier father, and then her husband.” X o 
reply being made to this, Mr. Riley added, 
u You can go now. There ain’t much more 
to do, to-night.” 

Tom hurried from the counting-room. At 
the door of Patsy Quinn’s house, his mother 
waited for him. “Let me go with you,” 
she exclaimed. “I can’t stay here. ’Tain’t 
right to leave your father alone. What if 
he should die? I want to go. I ain’t 
afraid of him. I can pray.” 

“ Then come, mother,” her son answered. 
And the two walked on in silence. “I’ve 
got to go to Mis Richards’, to-night,” he 
s'aid, as they paused before entering their 
home. “She wants me to do an errand 
for' her. I don’t like to leave you.” 

“You needn’t worry. I told you I 
shouldn’t be afraid, and I slia’n’t. I ought 
to stay here. Patsy says she guesses your 
father’s took his last walk, and you know we 
want him to go to heaven. He don’t know 
nothing about it, and we’ve got to tell him.” 


156 


SLOWLY BUT SUKELY 


“Yes,” replied Tom absently. “But it 
all looks dark to me about father. He’s 
awful bad.” 

“And so was the man you read about 
last night ; but the book says God forgive 
his sins, and he went to heaven. And the 
Bible says Christ came to save sinners.” 

“Yes, mother, there ain’t no chance for 
me if he didn’t.” Directly the speaker 
asked, “What can I do for you, father?” 

“I don’t know. Guess I don’t deserve 
to have anything done,” was the reply. 
“But I’m in dreadful pain. Your mother’s 
here, ain’t she ? ” 

“ Yes ; she came back with me.” 

“Don’t take her off again, Tom. I won’t 
hurt her. I liain’t done right, and I’m 
sorry for it. For God’s sake, don’t leave 
me here alone. I’m hot and cold all at 
once.” Then as if ashamed of any relent- 
ing, the suffering man cried, “ Why don’t 
you do something for me, not stand there 
glowering, when I’m ’most dead? Likely 


god’s purposes are wrought. 


15T 


you want me out of tlie way, so you can 
have the house to yourselves?” 

At these last words, all the light died 
out of Tom’s face, and all the gladness left 
his heart. It had been but a little gleam, 
a little lifting of the load which pressed so 
heavily upon him ; hut now the darkness 
seemed more intense, and the burden more 
terrible. 

Mrs. Magee, who waited in the kitchen, 
wrung her hands in that pitiful, despairing 
way which betokens a feeling of utter help- 
lessness. Seldom in her life had she acted 
from her own choice ; always had there 
been a tyrannical power constraining her; 
yet her woman’s heart lived, and throbbed 
responsive to each word and act. Her boy 
w T as her idol ; and now that he had reform- 
ed, lie was more to her than all things else 
besides. In the few happy days preceding 
her marriage, her ignorance had invested 
James Magee with all manly qualities, and 
she looked forward with glad anticipations. 


153 


SLOWLY BUT SUEELY 


If the dream she cherished lacked the fair 
proportions of many another, it was never- 
theless her dream , from which she had been 
cruelly awakened. 

“ Father, it’ll be best to have a fair un- 
derstanding between us,” said the son, in 
measured tones. “Pm willing to work and 
take care of you, but you must use a civil 
tongue. If you’ll behave yourself, mother’ll 
stay with you ; if you don’t, she won’t.” 

“Don’t be hard on me, my boy; I liain’t 
done right, but — but — ” 

Here the speaker broke down utterly, 
and his wife bent over him with a vague 
longing to give him strength and comfort. 
An impatient gesture, however, sent her 
back to the kitchen, where she prepared 
supper; and when this was eaten, her son 
left her. 

Patsy Quinn, ever on the alert for news 
of her neighbors, accosted the young man 
with her usual eagerness. “IIow is he?” 

“Bad enough,” w T as the reply. “Won’t eat 


god's PURPOSES ARE WROUGHT. 


159 


nor drink. But some way, lie’s different. 
I liad to leave mother to manage him best 
way she can. lie can’t abuse her only 
with his tongue. lie’s pretty much used 
up.” 

“ That’s a fact, my lad. ’T wouldn’t he 
strange if lie’s most through. I thought so 
when I see you going by with him. Your 
mother told me how weak he is. He ain’t 
fit to die.” 

“Ho, nor fit to live neither. I’ve wished 
him dead a good many times. I don’t 
now, though. I pitied him to-night. I 
wish you could go up.” 

“I can if I take Katv, and she’ll like to 
go. We can come back when the moon’s 
up. I guess I will. Your mother ain’t 
much of a nurse.*’ 

At Mrs. Richards’s, Tom was sure of re- 
ceiving sympathy and encouragement. Wil- 
bur was glad to see him, as he was told 
heartily. “I’ve been thinking about you 
every minute since you were here. I wish 


160 


SLOWLY BUT SURELY 


I could bear part of your troubles for 
you.” 

“I don’t,” was the quick reply. “You 
wa’n’t made to bear such as I do, though 
you’ve helped me more’ll anybody knows. 
Do you remember what kind of a boy I 
was the first time I come here ? ” 

“ I have a good memory,” answered the 
young host. “I thought you the strongest 
boy I had ever seen.” 

“ And the wickedest ? ” 

“ Ho ; I discovered that you had a gen- 
erous heart.” 

“Everybody has, perhaps, if folks could 
find it.” 

“ Then I hope you’ll find one belonging 
to Mr. Patten. Do you know him \ ” 

“I’ve seen him. Tie used to live the 

other side.” 

“Yes, he’s only been this side a 'few 
weeks. The daughter, whose wages paid 
the rent, was taken sick, and they were 
obliged to move.” 


GOD S PURPOSES ARE WROUGHT. 


161 


“Wliat’s the matter with the girl?” 

“ People think she has consumption. 
The woman who washes for us told mother, 
and she said the family don’t have enough 
to eat. Patten lias been on a spree now 
for about six weeks.” 

Up to this time, not a question had been 
asked regarding matters in Tom Magee’s 
home ; but before he started on his errand 
. of mercy all was told. 

“ There is hope,” exclaimed the listener 
joyfully. “ Only do your duty, and trust 
God for the rest. lie is able and willing 
to save. Christ made an atonement for 
the sins of the whole world; and whosoever 
cometli to him, even at the last hour, he 
will in no wise cast out. O Tom! how 
much good you can do with your strength 
and your influence. You ought to be 
singing thanksgivings every day. I heard 
about your helping the old lame man, that 
lives up on the hill. He thinks you’re 
the best boy in the country. lie says the 


102 


SLOWLY BUT SURELY 


tracts you gave liim were worth more to 
his soul than the bread and meat was to 
his body.” 

“But you see I don’t deserve the credit 
for that. I promised to do good for you, 
and that’s your work I’m doing. I always 
think what you’d do, and try to do my 
best.” 

“And your best is very well, my friend. 
Mother says, too, that you must have given 
me some of your strength. I am feeling 
better this spring, and I think you have 
been my physician. O Tom ! it would 
almost kill me if I should be disappointed 
in you. I’ve set my heart on having you 
one of the best of Christians. I want you 
to go to church and Sabbath-school.” 

“I mean to as soon as I can pay for 
some new clothes. I promised Jack Weth- 
erbee I’d go with him.” 

Here Mrs. Richards interrupted the con- 
versation. She had various instructions to 
give to the almoner of her bounty, and a 


god’s purposes are wrought. 


163 


request to make that lie would return and 
tell her of the sick girl. 

Such a place as was this cellar — so dark, 
so damp, and so dirty ! The walls could 
never be dry; the floors never clean. One 
large room and two small rooms comprised 
the tenement, which was seldom occupied. 
During high water it was not habitable ; 
yet here George Patten had brought his 
family, and with an oath declared that the 
accommodations were good enough. 

Mary, the oldest daughter, had struggled 
bravely to do something for her mother and 
the children ; but, at last, the overtasked 
body refused to obey her will. Of ten chil- 
dren, seven had died, and, dearly as the 
mother loved them, she could not mourn that 
God had taken them to himself. But to 
live without Mary seemed impossible. 

“ Perhaps father’ll do better if I can’t 
work,” said the hopeful girl. “Don’t give 
up, mother. They say God knows every- 
thing, and it can’t be he’ll quite forget us ! ” 


164 : SLOWLY BUT SURELY 

Weeks, however, had passed, and yet no 
help beyond the slight provision made by 
Mr. Patten, which scarce sufficed to keep his 
family from actual starvation. At length, 
one of the poorest of their neighbors visited 
them, and, seeing their destitution, contributed 
of her scanty means. Others followed her ex- 
ample, and it was from one of these that 
Mrs. Richards heard the sad story. 

“I’m cold and hungry,” sobbed little Wil- 
lie Patten, as he stood beside his sister’s 
low couch. “ Lizzie’s hungry, too. Mammie, 
can’t you get well, and buy us something to 
eat % I’ll be good, and never say a single 
’notlier wicked word if you will.” 

“I wish I could, darling,” was the reply. 
“ Tell Lizzie to come here, and I’ll tell you 
both a story.” 

“ Ain’t you cold ?” asked the child. 

“Not much,” answered Mary. 

“ O dear! I wish I wa’n’t. But I be. 
I’m so cold and hungry I don’t care about 
hearing no stories. Seems as though I could 


god’s purposes are wrought. 


165 


eat all the world up. I wish somebody’d 
bring a bread big’s this house.” 

Just then, Mrs. Patten hastened to open 
the door in response to a heavy rap. “ Come 
in,” she said, and the young man thus ad- 
dressed stepped into the room. 

“ Mis Pichards asked me to bring this basket 
to you,” he remarked, as he proceeded to empty 
it of its contents. “ She heard some of you 
was sick, and thought you’d need something.” 

Tom was somewhat rude in his manners, 
and by no means happy in his choice of 
words, but the poor woman cared not for 
this. She saw only an angel of mercy ; heard 
only that she' was not forsaken. 

“ I’m thankful to you and her,” she said 
in a choked voice. u Wedo need something. 
We’re badly off.” 

“ This ain’t no tit place to live,” re- 
sponded her visitor. “ You’ve got a sick 
girl, hain’t you ?” 

a Yes ; and it’s a dreadful place for her, 
but we can’t help ourselves. We’re poor.” 


166 


SLOWLY BUT SURELY 


“ There’s a drunkard at the beginning of 
all your trouble ! ” exclaimed Tom Magee, so 
moved with anger that he forgot all caution. 
“You see, I know all about it. I’ve been 
through, the mill, and I know how to pity 
you. Mis Richards told me some things she 
wanted I should tell you, and, if you’ll let 
me sit down a few ' minutes, I’ll be glad to. 
I took my father home from Murphy’s just 
before dark, and I hate rum bad as you 
can.” 

Mary Patten heard this burst of indigna- 
tion, and longed to add her testimony against 
the accursed stuff. Lizzie and Willie re- 
garded the speaker curiously, their attention 
being divided between him and the parcels 
of food spread upon a rickety table. Mrs. 
Patten moved forward the best chair for her 
visitor, and then, from a generous loaf, pro- 
ceeded to cut thick slices of bread, which she 
gave to her younger children. 

“ Oh ! goody ! ” exclaimed Willie ; while Liz- 
zie, in her .shy way, manifested equal delight. 


god’s purposes are wrought. 1GT 

“ Guess you knowed somebody was coming, 
mammie. lie’s a great, big boy, and there’s 
lots of things on the table. There’s a 
tumbler with something in it, and big bun- 
dles, and little bundles; and there’s just the 
biggest bread you ever see ! ” 

“ Don’t mind me,” said Tom, who seemed 
in no haste to deliver the message entrusted 
to him. Indeed, he had a purpose in pro- 
longing his stay. He knew that George 
Patten was- in a groggery not far away, 
where a rough-and-tumble fight was in pro- 
gress, and thought, this family might need 
some protection should the drunken hus- 
band and father come home in furious mood. 

“ I guess I’ll make Mary some tea,” re- 
marked Mrs. Patten, as she replenished the 
fire in a rusty stove. “ I didn’t, know no- 
thing what to do to-night, and I can’t tell 
you how thankful I am you come. If 
’twa’n’t for Mary, I could bear to live here, 
perhaps ; but she’ll die in such a place. She 
worked in the • mill as long as she could 


1G8 


SLOWLY BUT SURELY 


stand, and kept up pretty good courage; but 
now she’s all down. She don’t see nobody.” 

“ Not them that worked with her ?” 

a No,” was the answer, emphasized with 
a shake of the head ; and then, in a lower 
tone : “ She’s ashamed’ to have anybody 

know where we live, poor child. I’m 
ashamed, too ; but I ’most forget it when my 
children are hungry.” 

“ Yes, ma’am,” said Tom in a choked 
voice. “ I guess I’ll go out, now, and come 
in bymeby after the basket.” 

Such eagerness as there was to examine 
their store of good things the moment the 
door closed behind him ! Even Mary raised 
her head from the pillow, and took account 
of their possessions. “ You must bring 
them all in here, and put them in the box,” 
she said. “ And, children, don’t you tell 
father.” 

“ I won’t tell him a word,” replied Willie 
stoutly. “ I guess I know better’n that. 
He’ll take every bit away, if I do.” Lizzie 


god's purposes are wrought. * 109 


also gave her promise, and within half an 
hour both were sleeping soundly. 

A whispered consultation between mother 
and daughter was soon interrupted by the 
sound of angry voices from without. 

“ There’s father, and the one that brought 
the things, and somebody else. They’re 
coming here. O mother ! what shall we 
do?” 

“ Here's a man that’s been fighting, says 
he belongs here,” shouted a rough police- 
man. “ Take him to the lock-up, if you say 
so. Don’t care if lie's civil; but we’ve had 
fighting enough for once. What say?” 

“ Shut him up, and be done with it,” 
replied Tom Magee. “ That's what I told 
vou to begin with.” 

“ Shut up yourself, and let the woman 
talk. "What say?'’ 

“I don’t know,” murmured* the poor 
woman, who, despite all his cruelty, clung to 
her husband with a sort of despairing affec- 
tion. 


170 


SLOWLY BUT SUBELY 


The drunkard struggled to release himself 
from the grasp of those who held him, and, 
failing in this, uttered a succession of ter- 
rible oaths, accompanied w T ith such threats as 
sealed his doom. 

“ Help me up the steps with him, Magee, 
’Tain’t safe to have him round. I can man- 
age him after I get out of this hole. I’ll 
put him where he can’t do much mischief 
to-night.” 

At this, Mary begged that he might not 
be taken away. Mrs. Patten, too, joined in 
the petition, promising to do her best to 
keep him at home; but they were unheed- 
ed, except as they received assurance that 
he should be at liberty in the^ morning. 

The struggling man was dragged up the 
broken stairs, and Tom Magee dismissed. 
The policeman was moving on with his 
charge, when, by a sudden effort, George 
Patten regained his liberty, and, rushing 
forward with uncertain steps, turned into a 
narrow alley leading to the river. Ilis 


GOD S PURPOSES ARE WROUGHT. 


171 


pursuer followed him slowly, calling upon 
him to have a care that lie did not fall into 
the water. A dull, heavy splash was the 
only response. 

. “ Help ! help ! A man drowning ! Help ! 
This way ! ” 

Clouds obscured the moon, and this bank 
of the river lay in deep shadow. There was 
the tramping of many feet, hasty orders were 
given, and for the time one common inter- 
est swayed the crowd. The drunkard, who 
but a half-hour before had been despised by 
all who knew him, was now an object of 
deepest solicitude. To save him from 
drowning,' many a man was willing to peril 
a useful life. But effort was useless, search 
fruitless; and to the beggared wife and chil- 
dren was told the fate of husband and fa- 
ther. 

“Dead! Drowned!’’ repeated Mary, in a 
strange, absent way. “ How did it hap- 
pen?” Again she listened, and asked, “Are 
we to blame ? ” 


172 


SLOWLY BUT SURELY 


“ Ho,” answered the policeman. “ There 
wa’n’t nobody to blame but himself. If I 
hadn’t ’rested him, he wouldn’t run down 
that alley, but I only done my duty.” 

This man, by no means devoid of feeling, 
although it was carefully concealed, thought 
now- to test the sympathy which had been 
excited. All around him, people were say- 
ing that it was well Patten was out of the 
way. “ His family is better off without 
him. There’ll be some chance for them, 
now he’s gone. Poor things ! IIow can 
they live in that horrid cellar ! ” 

a It’s easy to talk,” said our policeman. 
“ W ords are dirt cheap. How many of you 
are ready to put your hands in your pockets, 
and give something to help the family?” 

Directly there was an exploration of pock- 
ets, and one remarked : “ Move them out 

of that hole to-niglit. There’s two vacant 
chambers in the house where I live, and 
I’ll pay a month’s rent.” This proposition 
also met a hearty response ; and before ten 


god’s purposes are wrought. 173 

o’clock, Mrs. Patten was established in some 
large, airy rooms, with plenty of food for 
days to come. 

It had all passed so quickly that the great 
change was hardly realized. Some poor 
rumseller would miss one of his customers, 
and there would be one missing from the 
number of those who polluted the air with 
their foulness and profanity. 

Tom Magee worked, that evening, saying 
little, but thinking much. When all was 
done, he went to Mrs. Richards and re- 
ported what had transpired, then turned 
towards his home. Here he found Patsy 
Quinn, who still watched with his- mother. 
They were troubled by Tom’s long absence, 
and shocked when told the reason of this. 

“If Patten hadn't any soul, ’twould be a 
good thing lie’s dead,” said the young man. 
“lie didn’t do nobody any good here, 
but it’s dreadful to think where his soul is 
now.” 

“Don’t, Tom! Don’t talk about it,” ex- 


174 


SLOWLY BUT SUKELY 


claimed Mrs. Magee ; and lier husband 
would have joined in this cry,, had he not 
with iron will controlled himself. lie 
asked no question, but he heard every word 
which was spoken. He knew when Patsy 
went away, knew that Tom carried a sleep- 
ing child from the house, and counted the 
minutes while the boy was away. 

The next day and the next passed with 
no appearance of amendment in the health 
of Jim Magee. He refused to have a 
physician, asserting his ability to take care 
of himself, and yet gradually there came to 
him the fear that he had nearly finished his 
earthly course. At midnight, knowing his son 
to be awake, he said, in a quivering voice : 

“ Tom, is there any danger of my dying ?” 

“ I think there is,” was the reply. “ Patsy 
thinks so, too.” 

“You wouldn’t be sorry to get rid of me. 
I liain’t done you no good, my boy.” 

“I don’t know of any good you’ve done 
me,” answered Tom honestly. 


god's purposes are wrought. 


175 


The man accused himself, yet shrank from 
this accusation when another repeated it. 
“ I wish I’d done different,” he replied. 
“But it can’t he helped, now. It’s too late 
to mend a bad life.” 

“Tain’t too late to do better, father. 
’Tain’t too late to ask God’s forgiveness.” 

“ What do you suppose God cares for 
such a poor dog as I am? If he knows 
about me, ’tain’t likely he’ll be very hard 
punishing me, Tom. There can’t be any- 
thing much worse for me than what I feel 
now.” 

“ There’s something better, if you’re a 
mind to take it.” And as the young man 
said this, he felt for his father something 
akin to affection. “Christ died for you,” 
he added earnestly. “He’s ready to for- 
give you, if you ask him.” 

“Ask him! I don’t know how. I can’t.” 

“ Yes, you can, father. Ask him just as 
you’d ask me to do something for you.” 

“How do I know he’ll hear?” 


176 


SLOWLY BUT SURELY 


“ The Bible says he will ; and every 
Christian knows he will.” 

“ Be you a Christian, Tom ?” 

“ I’m afraid not ; but I believe the Bible, 
and it does me good to pray. I couldn’t 
kept up, this winter, if it hadn’t been for 
that. It’s been hard, any way.” 

“I know it, Tom. I’ve heard you pray- 
ing when you thought I was asleep, and 
you cried.” 

“ Yes, father. I’ve got enough to cry 
about, take it all ’round. I’ve worked hard, 
but I don’t care nothing about that. I’m 
trying to do somewhere near right, and 
’tain’t easy. I was brought up to be ugly.” 

“ That means me,” groaned the father. 
“I know all about it. I wouldn’t do so, if 
’twas to go over again.” 

“Yes, you would, if you didn’t pray, 
so God would help you do better,” replied 
the son. “ Some way, you couldn’t help 
it. You’d drink and swear, bad as ever. 
You no need to been where you are now. 


god’s purposes are wrought. 


ITT 


But then, ’tain’t too late to get forgiveness, 
if you’ll ask God.” 

“You ask him for me, Tom. I'm so 
bad, I’m afraid to. You ask first, and 
then, perhaps, I’ll try.” 

As there had been a struggle in the mind 
of the elder man, before making this re- 
quest, there was also a struggle in the mind 
of the younger before complying. It was 
not easy for him to kneel in the presence 
of his father, but he did so ; and as he as- 
sumed the attitude of prayer, every feeling 
of resentment died out of his heart. 

“ O God ! forgive my sins, for Christ’s 
sake.” 

This was all the father could say ; and 
this was sobbed rather than spoken. 

There was little sleep in the house that 
night. Mrs. Magee, roused by the sound 
of voices, came from the chamber, and 
through the slowly passing hours listened, 
with half, suppressed breath, to the con- 
fessions of her husband. !Not to her were 


178 


SLOWLY BUT SUKELY 


these confessions made ; indeed, lie seemed 
unconscious of lier presence, although her 
name was often upon his lips. The fear 
of death and the accusations of an awakened 
conscience tortured him into an acknowledg- 
ment of his guilt. Tie looked to his son 
for aid and counsel, as one looks to a superior 
whose wisdom is infallible. 

“You’ll come home as soon as you can, 
won’t you, my hoy ?” 

“ Yes, sir,” answered Tom, turning from 
the door for a parting glance at his father, 
who thus expressed a desire for his return. 

“But likely I’ll he hindered some. I’ll 
send a doctor this forenoon, and mother'll 
take good care of you.” 

“ Yes, she’ll do that ; hut I’ll miss you.” 

“I’m glad you’ll miss me,” was the hearty 
response. “ Good-morning.” 

There was some hesitation on the part of 
the physician called upon to attend Jim 
Magee. lie was pressed with business, and 
suggested that there were others more at 


god’s PURPOSES ARE WROUGHT. 


179 


liberty. But Tom was not tlius to be dis- 
missed ; the fee was tendered, and earnest- 
ness prevailed. The doctor was interested; 
listened patiently to a brief account of the 
invalid’s sickness and symptoms, and pro- 
mised to make an early call. 

This day, the first hours of which had 
brought to our young friend such surprise, 
had been selected by his old companions 
as that which should witness his entire dis- 
comfiture. Their plans had been carefully 
arranged, and they were sure of success. 
They were not to be defied. 

Under a dilapidated fish-house, on the 
banks of the river, were found various 
stolen articles; and in the same place were 
also found some tools, such as are used for 
forcing locks and opening windows. These 
last were marked with the name of -Tom 
Magee, and the rudely engraved figure of 
an owl. 

Mr. Biley was first notified of this dis- 
covery during Tom’s absence, and stoutly 


180 


SLOWLY BUT SURELY 


maintained the young man’s innocence of 
any participation in the robbery with which 
he was charged, remarking, “ The goods 
were stolen only a month ago.” 

“Four weeks ago last night,” was the re- 
sponse. 

“ And Tom has worked for me steady 
all winter. I tell you he don’t know any- 
ing about that scrape.” 

“He don’t work for you nights?” 

“Ho, and he don’t steal, neither. I’ll 
warrant he can tell where he was that 
night, and prove it. The gang he used to 
be with hate him, and mean to make trouble for 
him. You’d better overhaul them, not come 
round here, trying to make a fuss with a boy 
that’s trying to do as well as he can. I tell 
you I’d trust him anywhere. He could 
steal from me, if he wanted to steal from 
anybody.” 

“How do you know but what he does?” 

“How do I know! How do I know 
anything ? I watched him a month all 


god’s purposes are wrought. 


181 


the time, and I calculate I found out what 
he was up to by that time. He used to be 
one of the hardest boys, either side the river ; 
but I’d go bail for him now anywhere, and 
I’m good for five thousand.” As this was said, 
the speaker slapped his hand upon a well- 
filled pocket-book; and, the wood-cart be- 
ing driven into the yard, he shouted, 
“ Come here, Tom. Here’s a man wants 
to know where you was four weeks ago 
last night.” 

A fiusli of anger overspread Tom’s face, 
then the hot blood receded, leaving him 
ghostly pale, yet he manifested no fear. 
He bowed coldly to the officer, who regarded 
him with severe scrutiny, asking, “ Can 
you give an account of yourself for that 
night ? If you can, I want to hear it.” 

“ Yes, sir.” Tom took from liis pocket 
a diary, and, turning to the date in question, 
read, “Went home at dark. Found mother 
reading in my new Bible. After supper, 
come down the river, and stopped a few min- 


182 


SLOWLY BUT SURELY 


ntes at Patsy Quinn’s. Tlien rvent to Mrs. 
Richards’, and stayed till ten o’clock. Went 
home, and read five chapters in the Bible. 
Then rvent to bed.” 

“ That’s your story. What Mrs. Rich- 
ards is it where you staid till ten o’clock?” 

“ Mrs. Richards at the head of Third 
Street. Wilbur Richards’ mother.” 

“ And you visit there, do you ?” 

“ I go there.” 

“Well, ’tain’t for me to say but your 
story’s true. But what about the cellar un- 
der the old fish-house ? I suppose you 
know there’s one there.” 

“Yes, sir. I helped dig it, and stone it.” 

“ Thought likely. Some of your pro- 
perty’s been found there, and some of Per- 
ley’s. ITow do you account for that?” 

“They couldn’t got there without hands.” 

“Your hands?” 

“ JYo, sir!” This denial was thundered 
out in a startling tone. 

“Hold on, Tom,” exclaimed Mr. Riley. 


god’s purposes are wrought. 183 

c< Don’t get mad. Shouldn’t blame you, 
but ’twon’t pay. I know you’ve told the 
truth, and I’ll stand by you through 'thick 
and thin. You ain’t obliged to tell about 
the tools. You ain’t in court.” 

Some further conversation followed, which 
resulted in a visit to the city, where the 
wood-dealer made good his word in regard 
to bail. It was not likely to prove a very 
serious matter, after all; but Tom felt it 
keenly. Remembering Jack "Wetherbee’s 
warning, he knew to whom he was in- 
debted for this annoyance. He went about 
his work as usual, but towards night he 
grew despondent. Clouds were gathering, 
and the way seemed dark before him. 
There was so much in his past life he 
wished to forget, that the thought of having 
it recalled almost overwhelmed him. Tie 
was “ only a lad,” as Patsy Quinn often 
said, when speaking of him. 

“Always darkest just before day,” said 
his employer. “Hold up your head, and tell 


184 


SLOWLY BUT SURELY 


the truth, and you’ll do well enough. I’ll 
stand by you, and there’s enough knows 
how youVe done, this winter. Ask Wilbur 
Richards if he remembers your being to his 
house that night, and ask Patsy if she see 
you when you was going home. Face the 
whole thing like a man. We all know 
you’ve had a hard row to hoe, but keep up 
good courage! There can’t nobody make me 
believe that any of the city boys broke into 
Perley’s store. What do you think about it ? ” 
■* c If the boys did it, they *liad a leader out- 
side. I know some things about it, and, if 
worst comes to worst, I’ll tell what I know. 
There’s always enough to put up boys to do 
bad, and one bad one always wants a dozen 
to keep him company. I know, because I’ve 
been in that box. If the good folks would 
only be as busy as the bad ones, they’d do 
something. Some of them are, and they’re 
like angels in the world. There’s Wilbur 
Richards; if I was good as he is, I’d be 
satisfied.” 


god’s purposes are wrought. 185 

“He is good, no mistake,” said Mr. Riley. 
“ Ilis mother’s one of a thousand, too. 
Money don’t set them up above other folks. 
Better go over and see them, and see what 
they say about this scrape.” 

The advice was heeded, and, without un- 
necessary delay, Tom explained the reason of 
his coming. Wilbur Richards referred to his 
journal, in which was a note of the visit made 
four weeks before, and an outline of the con- 
versation which occupied their time. He read 
from this for the oncouragement of his friend : 

“ 1 Prayed together before separating ; and 
I believe the Spirit of God is moving upon 
the heart of the young man. If I may be 
the means of leading him to Christ, I shall 
not have lived in vain. lie is a noble- 
looking fellow, and I am more and more at- 
tracted to him—’ I don’t know as I ought 
to have read the last line,” said Wilbur, with 
a smile. “I don’t wish to flatter you, so 
that you will think of yourself more highly 
than you ought to think.” 


ISO 


SLOWLY BUT SURELY 


“I’m not likely to think a great deal of 
myself just now,” was the reply. “ I wish 
I could change my name, and forget the old 
one.” 

“ Make the name honorable and honored. 
That’s part of your work in the world, and 
there is plenty more waiting for you. 
Mother visited Mrs. Patten to-day, and she 
told how kind you had been. Mary said 
she shouldn’t know you* you’ve changed so 
much. Come, Tom, cheer up ! Be sure 
God remembers you, so there’s no need of 
being cast down. Tell me of your father.” 

There was much to tell ; and both speaker 
and listener were so interested that the pas- 
sage of time was unnoted. “I don’t think 
father’ll live long ” said Tom at length. 

“Possibly not,” was the reply; “but I 
have faith that he will die a Christian. I’d 
like to see him ; but you are the one to 
help him, Tom. I’m thankful you prayed 
with him. Your mother, too, how is she?” 

“Patient, and trying to do as well as she 


god’s purposes are wrought. 187 

can. Poor woman ! She’s been ordered 
round so all her life she don’t know how 
to manage for herself very well; but she’s 
learning. You wouldn’t know our old hut 
for the same place ’twas six months ago. 
"When the curtains are down in the evening, 
and there’s a good fire, it’s almost pleasant.” 

The striking of a clock reminded the 
speaker that he would be expected at home, 
and, with a heart somewhat lightened, he 
bade his friend good-evening. At Lion’s 
Mouth he found Hob Morrison and Jack 
Wetherbee waiting for him — the former look- 
ing anxious, the latter hopeful. 

“IIow are you?” cried Tom heartily. 

“How are you?” was the response. 

“First-rate! Hever better.” And a cor- 
dial shaking of hands testified to the pleasure 
of this meeting. “ Got into trouble, Rob ? ” 

“Hot much; but there’s trouble for some- 
body.” 

“So I’ve heard; and I’ve got track of 
some of my tools. Where’s the new bird ? ” 


188 


SLOWLY BUT SUE ELY 


“ Gone. Packed off the night Perley’s 
store was robbed, and that’s the last of 
him.” 

“Where was you?” 

“ Over to Jack’s. Staid all night.” 

“And the others?” 

“ Pound town in different places. They 
didn’t go near Perley’s. lie couldn’t get 
one of them there. Fact is, we’ve all missed 
you, Tom, and your preaching that last 
night ain’t forgot. I’ve wished I’d swore 
off when you did.” 

“ Then do it now ! It’s time ; and there 
ain’t nothing smart in tossing off a glass of 
liquor as though ’twas cold water. Any fool 
can do that.” 

“I know that. If a fellow could go to 
the captain’s with plenty of money, and just 
call for what he wanted, there’d be some fun 
in it ; but I’m tired of the dirty old nest. 
It’s getting awful slow there.” 

“And you think ’twould be better at 
Captain Blood’s?” said Tom enquiringly. 


GOD S PURPOSES ARE WROUGHT. 


189 


“ Yes ; don’t you ? ” was the reply. 

“ There’s more lights there, and likely 
the cards are cleaner. Shouldn’t wonder, 
too, if they have clean ei tumblers to drink 
out of, and their drink costs more. But, if 
they’re being made into drunkards, wliat’s 
the difference? They’ll all go to the same 
place in the end ; and there ain’t a meaner 
rumseller in the city than Captain Blood. 
’Twa’n’t only last week a woman asked him 
not to sell her boy any more liquor, and he 
laughed at her for getting excited about 
nothing. That boy’s just as certain to be 
a drunkard as he is to keep on going to the 
Captain’s. He’s over twenty-one, and can 
spend his money as lie’s a mind to. If I 
had a million dollars, I wouldn’t spend a 
cent of it in that saloon!” 

“ Come, Bob,” said Jack, looking to his 
companion to divulge the object of 'this in- 
terview. 

“Yes,” was the reply. And Bob pro- 
ceeded to offer his services in clearing Tom 


190 


SLOWLY BUT SUE ELY 


Magee from all suspicion of being connected 
with tlie robbery. “I know all about the 
tools, and I’ll tell, if you want me to. 
Perhaps ’twill make trouble for the rest of 
us, but I’m bound to see you cleared. A 
bad promise better be broke than kept. If 
it hadn’t been for you, I’d gone under, last 
summer.” 

“And if it hadn’t been for me, perhaps 
you wouldn’t made so many bad promises. 
Boys, what a devil I’ve been, and gloried 
in it ! Let me clear you , Hob. You’re in 
more danger than I am. You hain’t swore 
off from the cursed drink, and I have. Come, 
join Jack and I ; we’re on the right track.” 

“ Pll see,” was the reply. “ Jack’s been 
preaching to me like a minister, and I 
promised to go to Sabbatli-school when you 
do. I’ll be a bully scholar, won’t I? I 
don’t know hardly how the Bible looks ; 
but my old grandmother knows it from 
beginning to end. She’ll be in kingdom 
come to have me study it.” 


god’s purposes are wrought. 


191 


“And you’ll go to meeting and Sab- 
bath-school any time I do?” remarked Tom. 

“ Yes, siree ; just when you say.” 

“Then we’ll go next Sunday. It’s Fri- 
day, so we’ll need to be making our plans 
for it.” 

Fob Morrison looked somewhat discon 
certed at this turn of affairs. ITe had not 
counted on such ready acceptance of his 
proposal. “You’ve caught me this time,” 
he said at length, with a forced laugh. 
“ You caught me napping.” 

“ Why ? Didn’t you mean what you 
said?” asked Tom. 

“Yes, I suppose so,” was the reply; “hut 
I didn’t think you would take me up so 
quick.” 

“ But I have, Fob. I wa’n’t thinking 
to go so soon myself ; but it’s always best 
to strike when the iron is hot. I calculated 
on a new suit of clothes before I went, but 
’t won’t make much difference. We can go 
once without a lesson, can’t we, Jack?” 


192 


SLOWLY BUT SUllELtf 


“Yes,” answered tlie boy, who bad been 
an attentive listener to the conversation be- 
tween bis friends. It was a matter of sur- 
prise to bim tliat Tom was not more anx- 
ious in regard to tbe affair wbicli bad so 
excited Rob and liimself. Tliis surprise be 
expressed, adding, “I thought you’d feel 
dreadfully.” 

“So I did a while; but I’m getting over 

it. I’ve got a clear conscience about that 

stealing, and I guess I can stand tbe rest, 

though I’m ashamed enough of having 
© © © 

belonged to ‘ The Owls.’ You’d better 
leave them, Rob.” 

“ Guess I shall have to, if I go to meet- 
ing and Sabbath-school. Can’t get along 
with all three, and I don’t want to. Your 
leaving, and the new bird’s row, about done 
for us.” 

“Good for so much!” exclaimed Tom. 
“I’m much obliged for your offer; but I 
hope I sha’n’t need your help. I don’t want 
to get the boys into a scrape. I’ve done 


GOD S PURPOSES ARE WROUGHT. 


193 


enough of that. I'll meet you on the bridge 
Sunday morning at ten o’clock, and we’ll 
find a chance to finish our talk some other 
time. Good-night.” 

“Tom, my boy, is that you?” asked Jim 
Magee, as he heard a firm step in the kitchen. 

“ Yes, sir, it’s me,” was the reply. 

“I thought you never’d come. It’s been 
a dreadful long day. Your mother’s read to 
me, and took good care of me; a good deal 
better than I deserve. But I wanted you.” 

“The doctor come, father?” 

“ Yes, and he’s going to try and patch me 
up, though he says I am pretty much worn 
out. You’re a good boy, Tom, to look out 
so for me ; working hard to feed me, when I 
liain’t been no’ kind of a father to you. I’m 
glad you’ve come.” 

Mrs. Magee did not say she was glad to 
see her son ; but her face lighted up with a 
joy which could not be simulated. “He 
hain’t spoke cross but once to-day, and then 
he was sorry,” she murmured as Tom was 


194 


SLOWLY BUT SURELY 


standing by lier side. “'I can’t bear to think 
of his dying. The doctor says the chances 
are against him. u He’ll be a cripple, any 
way, if he lives.” 

Supper was eaten, and, after the sick man’s 
wants had been supplied, it was time to 
think of rest. 

“ Tom, couldn’t you read a chapter, and 
pray, while your mother’s here? I want you 
to, and I guess she does. I can’t pray my- 
self; I’m so wicked, Hain’t no use trying. 
Tom, my boy, don’t you never drink an- 
other drop of liquor as long as you live. I 
don’t mean to. If I get well, I’ll see if 
I can’t fight the devil that’s in me, so he’ll 
have to give up on the liquor business. It’s 
hard to lay here ; but I’m to * blame for it. 
There ain’t nobody else to blame except 
the drunken doctor. Curses on him ! Come, 
my boy, read something good, so I sha’n’t 
want to swear. I’m so used to the bad words, 
they keep coming into my mind, and the 
more I try to forget, the more I can’t.” 


GOD S PURPOSES ARE WROUGHT. 


195 


Without hesitation, Tom took his Bible, 
and commenced to read. This soothed his 
own feelings, and the prayer he offered 
seemed to bring down a blessing. His mo- 
ther was more hopeful, his father more sub- 
dued ; and as for himself, he had gained new 
strength and courage. They lay down to 
sleep with the consciousness that God’s pro- 
tecting care wa3 over them, and awoke in 
the morning refreshed. Even the father, 
under the influence of a powerful sedative, 
slept quietly. 

Of course Patsy Quinn had heard of the 
discovery under the old fish-house, and was 
impatient to know how it affected her neigh- 
bor. She expected to see him the, previous 
evening; but, having been disappointed, she 
waited anxiously for his appearance in the 
morning. A few words satisfied her. Tom 
was all right. She remembered seeing him 
pass her house soon after ten o’clock the 
night of the robbery. She would testify to 
that in court, if necessary. “I went to the 


19G 


SLOWLY BUT SUEELY 


door, and looked after you, after I’d seen you 
through the window in the entry. The light 
shone out so I could see till you got by the 
bend. I thought about it next morning, 
first thing, when I heard what had happened. 
I knew you didn’t have nothing to do with 
it. I won’t keep you no longer, my lad. 
Good luck to you.” 

There was a rush to the wood-yard that 
day. Mr. Riley’s business was increasing. 
Orders were so promptly filled, and Tom 
was so obliging, that there was seldom an 
opportunity for fault-finding. “ Honesty is 
the best policy,” was the motto of this 
establishment; and, rough though he was, 
its owner had the reputation of being an 
honorable man. As the many customers 
came and went, he took occasion to com- 
mend his assistant, thus forestalling preju- 
dice, and securing friendly consideration for 
the young man. At night, he gave more 
tangible proof of his favor by informing 
Tom that he could afford to pay higher 


god’s purposes are wrought. 197 

wages. “A quarter more every day, boy, 
and yon ought to save that.” 

This surely was something for which to 
he grateful, and the young man’s spirits 
rose accordingly. At home, his mother 
had occupied herself in making his best 
suit as presentable as might be, and on 
Sabbath morning every garment was so 
scrupulously clean that he had no need to 
blush for his appearance. His father gazed 
at him wistfully and proudly, watching him 
through the window until he was lost from 
sight. 

“ There’s Mr. Tom coming ! ” exclaimed 
little Kate Moran. “Just see, Aunt Patsy, 
how nice he looks ! He’s got a white 
handkerchief with one corner hanging out 
of his pocket, and his boots are just as 
black. He’s got on gloves, too. His boots 
ain’t wet a bit, so he’s stepped real easy. 
I guess he’s going to meeting. Don’t you 
guess so, Aunt Patsy ? ” 

“I don’t know,” was the reply. “You 


198 


SLOWLY BUT SURELY 


can go to the door and ask him. You’re 
as clean as he is.” 

Tom caught sight of the sweet child’s 
face, and quickened liis steps, thus plashing 
the well-polished boots, much to Katy’s 
regret. As he stopped to speak with her, 
she praised him a little shyly, asked where 
he w r as going, and returned his kiss *at 
parting. 

“He is going to meeting, Aunt Patsy,” 
she said joyfully. “It won’t be many Sun- 
days before we'll go, will it?” 

“I guess not, child. When the snow’s 
all gone, and I get a new bonnet, I mean 
to go. You’ll be perfectly happy then.” 

“Yes, Aunt Patsy, all but about father. 
You know I can’t forget him. I dreamed, 
last night, that lie called me, and said how 
sorry he w T as for being wicked. It ’most 
seems as though he really did say it.” 

“Well, w T ell, child, don’t think about him. 
You can’t do anything for him. You’re 
going to read to me, and I guess we’ll go 


god’s rURPOSES ARE WROUGHT. 


199 


up and see Mis Magee some time to-day. 
I promised her I would, and the old man 
asked me the first time.” 

Time passed quickly, and, when the bells 
rang for afternoon service, Mrs. Magee wel- 
comed two visitors. 

“ Patsy Quinn ? ” called the sick man. 

“Yes, Jim. IIow do you do, to-day?” 

“ Uneasy and discouraged. Want to swear, 
and talk as bad as I can, but I won’t ; 
though I suppose it's ’most as wicked as 
though I did. I want Tom to come and 
read to me.” 

“I’ve got a reader here,” responded Pat- 
sy — “ a little girl that lives with me, and she 
can read ’most as well as Tom. Want her 
to read to you?” 

“Let me see her first,” was the reply. 

Ivaty needed some assurance before enter- 
ing the room where lay Jim Magee, but 
once there, she looked smilingly into his 
face, while she waited for him to address 
her. 


200 


SLOWLY BUT SURELY 


“ What’s your name ? ” lie asked. 

“Kate Moran.” 

“What! Duke Moran’s girl?” 

“Yes, sir.” 

“How long have you lived with Patsy 
Quinn ? ” 

“A good while. All winter.” 

“ And -you read to her, you mite of a 
thing. Let me hear you read, and see 
what you’re good for.” 

This last was said not unkindly, and, 
taking from her pocket her own “ precious 
little hook,” the child began to read. Some- 
thing in the reader or the story so fixed 
the man’s attention that he forgot all else. 

As the last word was read, he brushed a tear 
from his eye, wondering if Hod’s mercy was 
sufficient to cover the multitude of his sins. 

“Who learnt you to read?” he asked 
after a long silence. 

“Mother,” answered the child softly. 

“She learnt you how to be good too, 
didn’t she?” 


god’s purposes are wrought. 


201 


“Yes, sir. She told me about God and 
heaven.” 

“You love God?” 

“Why, yes, sir. Course I do. Don’t 
you ? ” 

“I don’t know, child. Any way, I guess 
he don’t care much about such an old scamp 
as I be.” 

“ Oh ! yes, he does. lie loves everybody,” 
said Katy, happy in having an opportunity’ 
to reiterate this favorite truth. In reply to 
further questions, she was able to give a 
reason for her faith, and during the next 
half-hour, in her simple way, she preached 
Christ and him crucified. For all there 
was of sound outside the room, these two 
might have been the only inmates of the 
house; yet there were eager listeners, trea- 
suring every word, and gaining consolation 
in no limited measure. 

Meanwhile, Tom Magee had taken another 
step in the upward way. Robert Morrison 
and Jackson Wetherbee were crossing the 


202 


SLOWLY BUT SURELY 


bridge when lie came in siglit, both better 
dressed than himself, yet neither so likely 
to attract the attention of strangers. 

“ Didn’t know but I’d get a chance to 
go home,” said Rob, with a laugh. “ Guess 
I shall feel like a cat in a strange garret. 
Had to tell grandmother about it, and she’s 
happy as though she was t’other side of 
Jordan. She don’t go to meeting, but she 
wants to.” 

“ Then why don’t she go ? ” asked Tom. 

“Well, the truth is, she’s pretty old, and 
don’t make good work walking unless 
somebody helps her. The last time she 
went she fell down, and father told her 
she’d better stay at home.” 

“Why . don’t he go with her?” 

“ Oh ! you wouldn’t catch him inside a 
Gospel shop. Tom, what makes you look 
so solemn? Anybody’d think you’d been 
to a funeral.” 

“I went to a drowning last week, and 
perhaps I shall go to a funeral this week,” 


god’s TUKPOSES ARE WROUGHT. 203 

was the serious reply. “Who knows? It 
may be yours.” 

This effectually silenced Robert Morrison, 
who was by no means so thoughtless as his 
manner indicated. For the remainder of 
their walk, Tom and Jack sustained the 
conversation, speaking upon various subjects 
which interested them. 

The morning service was enjoyed, and 
Jack was delighted to introduce two new 
scholars to his teacher, who guessed at once 
with whom he had to deal. The class 
now numbered four, and, judging from the 
appearance of these four, there would be no 
diminution of the number. 

After school, Jack persuaded his friends 
to accompany him home, where a frugal 
lunch was provided. Again they joined 
the worshipping congregation, and listened 
reverently to the words of the preacher, 
who sought to impress his hearers with the 
necessity of preparing for death. 

u Wc ought to remember that sermon,” 


204 god’s purposes are wrought. 

said Tom Magee, as tliey walked homeward. 
“"We must all die, and we all have souls 
to be saved or lost. George Patten had a 
soul. Where do you suppose it went when 
he died?” 


CHAP TEE Y. 


THE DARKEST WAY OFTTIMES SHALL LEAD TO 
GLORIOUS DAY. 

transforming power of religion 
nowhere more clearly shown 
m iii the lives of those whose 
t have touched the lowest depths 
of vice. Eepentant and forgiven, their 
hearts warmed by a new love, and their sen- 
sibilities quickened by communion with the 
holy and divine, they are indeed born again. 
If old things have not entirely passed away, 
those which now appear quite overshadow 
them. There is ever a looking forward to 
the grand perfection unto which the sancti- 
fied soul shall attain. They have part in 
the' inheritance remaining to the people of 
God, and, remembering their former low es- 
tate, press onward to the prize. 

A life of reckless sinning is by no means 



206 


TIIE DARKEST AVAY OFTTIMES 


a fit preparation for tlie reception of truth, 
but the same zeal in good works will yield 
an abundant harvest. Of this fact, Wilbur 
Richards had been mindful when he selected 
Tom Magee as one upon whom to bestow 
much labor. 

Many will pass through the world, mere 
negative characters, exerting comparatively 
small influence for good or evil. Rot so, 
however, with our hero. From tlie very 
necessities of his nature he must act con- 
stantly and decidedly. lie must be a leader. 
His destiny was stamped upon face and fig- 
ure, rang out in the clear, rich tones of his 
voice, and echoed from his quick, manly 
tread. 

Long before he dared hope that he was a 
Christian, those who observed him closely 
saw the change which some hidden power 
had wrought. The affair which had so 
troubled him was settled without injury 
to his reputation. The real offender was 
discovered and punished. Through Tom’s 


SHALL LEAD TO GLORIOUS DAY. 


207 


persistent efforts, tlie boys disbanded, and 
were known no longer as disturbers of the 
peace. Several had been arrested; and thus 
fear of the law was made to exert a salutary 
influence. 

“ Tom Magee’s steady to his work as a 
man. Grows smart - looking every day,” 
said Patsy Quinn, who was scarcely less in- 
terested in him than was his mother. 

And this mother — how she hoped, and 
prayed, and smiled, happier than ever 
before ! Bising with the sun, she went about 
her homely household duties ; resting at night 
with the consciousness of a day well spent. 
Midsummer’s warmth and light pervaded her 
dwelling. The song of birds filled the air 
with melody, and wakened a response in her 
heart. Pausing occasionally in her work, 
she would stand at the door, and watch the 
movements of a pale, crippled man, who 
busied himself in the cultivation of a small 
patch of land. By some intuition, he seemed 
to know when she thus watched him, and 


208 


TIIE DARKEST WAY OFTTIMES 


repaid her thoughtfulness by a friendly nod 
or a wave of his hand, which was more to 
her than the fondest words would be to 
many another woman. 

This pale, crippled man, moving slowly 
and easity fatigued, was Jim Magee, who 
had so often boasted of his strength. Boast- 
ing was not now his habit. Glorying only 
in the Cross of Christ, his whole life was a 
struggle towards conformity to the will of 
him ' who came into the world to save 
sinners. 

Contrary to all expectation, his sickness 
had not been unto death. Bor some wise 
purpose God had spared him ; perhaps to 
prove the possibility of reform in one who 
had been thought irreclaimable. 

“ You’ll see old Jim hobbling down here, 
the first day he gets out,” said Murphy, with 
an oath, when told that his former customer 
had forsworn liquor. “ Tom made him 
promise when he couldn’t help himself. I’ll 
let him have ail the liquor he wants, just to 


SHALL LEAD TO GLORIOUS DAY. 


209 


spite that cub of his. I’ve got my back up, 
and I’ll show them what I can do. I’ve had 
Patten thrown in my face ever since he 
tumbled into the river ; and the day they 
found his body, there was a perfect howl 
round my ears.” 

All this the rumseller said with an air of 
bravado, emphasizing his speech with fear- 
ful oaths, and looking around defiantly to 
see who w r ould dare gainsay him. 

“ Patten’s body was the worst sight ever 
I see,” replied an old man, having no fear 
of the rumseller before his eyes. “ There 
wa’n’t nobody round would took care on’t 
but Tom Magee, and ’twas an all-fired tough 
job for him. I say, Murphy, that boy’s a 
peeler to work, and talk, too. I’ve got a 
tract in my pocket he give me, and he made 
me promise to read it.” 

“ More fool you ! He w'on’t come round 
here with his trash, I’ll warrant that. 
Give me your tract, and I’ll light my pipe 
with it.” 


210 


THE DARKEST WAY OFTTIMES 


“No, siree. That boy helped me home, 
one night, when yon turned me out in the 
rain ; and I won’t break my word to him. 
I’m keeping the little book to read, some 
Sunday. Hullo ! There goes Tom, now ; 
straight as a line, and worth his weight in 
gold, all because he knew enough to let 
drink alone. Tell you, ’twas a good thing, 
after all, when them tools was found. 
Swanny, his friends turned out thick as bees 
in swarming time.” 

To use his own expression, Morphy was 
“raving mad” to hear this praise of one 
whom he hated; and, in the strongest pos- 
sible terms, he asserted his determination to 
make Jim Magee so drunk he wouldn’t 
know himself. 

"Weeks came and went, while he waited 
in vain for Jim’s appearance. At length, 
weary of waiting, and improving what he 
considered a favorable opportunity, he con- 
cealed a flask of whiskey in his pocket, 
and went up the river. 


SHALL LEAD TO GLORIOUS DAY. 


211 


“ Hullo, Jim! IIow are you to-day? 
Thought I’d come round and see how you 
was getting along. Got so you hobble 
round some, don’t you?” 

“Yes, I’m a good deal better than I de- 
serve to be,” was the reply to this salu- 
tation. 

“Stay pretty much to home, don’t you?” 
continued the visitor. 

“ Yes, home’s the best place ; and I’ve 
staid away so much, I want to make up 
lost time.” 

“Don’t stay too close; we’ve been ex- 
pecting you down along. Coming, some- 
time, ain’t you?” 

“ Guess not. Last time I went down 
’most finished me; you remember it, don’t 
you ? ” 

“Well, yes. You took a little too much. 
Try again, and do better.” Here the 
speaker laughed loudly, reminding Jim of 
his former ability to outdrink the crowd. 
When he supposed this flattery to have 


212 


TIIE DARKEST WAY OFTTIMES 


taken effect, the flask was produced and 
uncorked. “ There, taste of this, and see 
what you think of it.” 

Instantly Jim Magee’s hand was out- 
stretched. Would he drink, and, drinking, 
seal his own destruction ? Ilis eyes flashed, 
and great drops of perspiration stood on his 
forehead. He seized the flask for a moment, 
held it tightly, and then, with sudden 
energy, threw it from him. The flask was 
shivered to atoms, the whiskey saturated the 


greensward, 
with rage. 

and the 

rumseller 

was 

livid 

“ What 

did you 

do that 

for?” 

was 

his first 

salutation, 

prefaced 

with 

an 

oath which 

might have startled 

the 

very 


demons. “ That was good whiskey.” 

“Was it, Murphy? What did you bring 
it here for?” 

“For you to drink. Thought ’twould do 
you good.” It was hard to say this, with 
the eyes of his companion fixed upon him, 
seeming to read his very thoughts; but the 


SHALL LEAD TO GLORIOUS DAY. 


213 


visitor must make some reply, and main- 
tain some show of friendship. 

“You thought, if I drinked that, I’d 
drink more, and you’d be sure of me. I 
tell you, Murphy, don’t yon never bring 
liquor in my sight again. If I’d drinked 
it, ’twonld been worse than death to me. 
’T would been damnation. I ain’t going to lay 
it up against yon ; but ’twas a wicked thing to 
do.” The man was confounded, as he listened 
to these words, spoken in a deep, earnest tone, 
which was in itself the proof of strong emo- 
tion. “ Your liquor-selling is the devil’s own 
work, and you’d best give it up.” 

“I didn’t come up here to hear a ser- 
mon,” was the angry retort. 

“And I couldn’t preach it, if you did,” 
said Magee. “I ain’t fit to preach, but I’m 
trying to do better than I used to.” 

“ Old fool,” muttered the rumseller, as 
he strode away. “Don’t care nothing about 
the whiskey, but I can’t bear to have Jim 
git the start of me.” 


214 


THE DARKEST WAY OFTTIMES 


“That was pretty tough,” said Jim, hob- 
bling into the house, where sat liis wife. “ I 
wanted that whiskey awful, and I can’t tell 
how ’twas I helped drinking it. Did you see ?” 

“Yes,” was the reply. “I trembled for 
fear, and I asked God to help you.” 

“ Then that was it. I didn’t think of 
God for a minute. I didn’t think of any- 
thing but just the whiskey. ’Twas the devil 
tempting me. What would Tom done if' 
I’d drinked it?” 

Ah ! what would he have done ? What 
would he have said to find his hopes thus 
blasted ? Perhaps a sense of danger op- 
pressed him; for, in the midst of his work 
he stopped suddenly, and offered a silent 
petition that God would enable his father to 
persevere in well-doing. “Give him strength 
to resist all temptation,” was the burden of 
this prayer; and at night he learned how 
great had been the need. 

“I beat that time, my boy,” exclaimed 
the father. 


SHALL LEAD TO GLORIOUS DAY. 


215 


“ ‘ Yet not I, but the grace of God,’ ” ad- 
ded Tom reverently. 

“Yes, yes, that was it; and I’ll have all 
my life to be thankful in. I was mad at 
Murphy, though, and I wanted to strike 
him.” 

“No wonder; he deserves a thrashing.” 

“You won’t thrash him, my boy?” 

“No, father. That ain’t in my line 
now.” And a hearty laugh testified to the 
speaker’s genial good-nature. 

From that time, there was less of fear, 
mingled with rejoicing, in Jim Magee’s 
home. In his crippled condition, he would 
not be likely to put himself in the way of 
temptation ; and his old companions carefully 
avoided his vicinity. Tom’s Sabbath-school 
teacher, and the pastor, who understood how 
to speak a ;word in season, were welcome 
visitors. Everything was so changed that 
it was difficult to believe what had been; 
and yet the two upon whom depended this 
change, were constantly reminded of their 


216 


THE DARKEST WAY 0FTTIMK3 


past experience. Self-control is not easily 
learned wlien appetite and passion have 
long held sway. 

“Up-hill work,” remarked Mr. Magee to 
the clergyman, with whom he was convers- 
ing. “ I’m afraid sometimes III come 
short.” 

“ Not if you look to God, my friend. The 
best of us must do that, and the worst of 
us can do no more. It is God who giveth 
us the victory through our Lord Jesus 
Christ.” 

“Yes, sir, I know that; but it does me 
good to hear you say it. I’ll be through 
soon, and then I’ll see it all.” 

“ You mean, my friend, that your life will 
not be long?” 

“Yes, sir; I don’t know how long, but 
’twill be short. I had an iron constitution, 
but it’s all broke to pieces. Last winter 
’most finished me ; but ’twas the best thing 
ever happened to me. Folks ain’t generally 
thankful for being lame, but I am. I never 


8IIALL LEAD TO GLORIOUS DAY. 


217 


had so good a liome in my life. Wife and I jog 
round here all day, and at night there’s Tom to 
expect. Tie always comes good and happy.” 

“You certainly have reason to be thank- 
ful for such a son,” said the clergyman. 

“ Yes, sir, more than anybody knows,” 
was the reply. “And to think he turned 
round of his own accord, and hain’t fell back 
once. Why, last winter, when I used to hear 
him pray in the night, when he thought I 
was asleep, I wanted to scream right out. 
Every word seemed like a sharp knife in my 
heart. When he was a little chap, I used to 
say he was the smartest boy in the country ; 
now I think lie’s most the best.” 

Tom Magee’s pastor joined heartily in 
this praise, adding that he hoped the young 
man would soon make a public profession of 
religion. Wilbur Richards, cherishing the 
same hope, had urged the duty upon his 
friend, who, after some hesitation, said frank- 
ly that the time had not yet come. A year’s 
trial must test the reality of conversion. 


218 


TIIE DARKEST WAY OFTTIMES 


It did not follow, however, that, because 
he was not of the church, he labored not 
with it. In his own way, Tom was an earn- 
est worker. Over boys and young men of 
his own class his influence was unbounded. 
They would follow where he led ; and rarely 
were they ashamed to acknowledge them- 
selves converts to his preaching. Always 
ready to help the poor and weak, many a 
ragged child was happier for having met 
him in one of his rounds. Lizzie and Wil- 
lie Patten watched him admiringly, and ran 
to meet him whenever their mother allowed 
them to do so. At Lion’s Mouth, Katy 
Moran sat on the doorstep or stood by the 
window as he passed, waiting for a smile or 
pleasant word. Some days, when Patsy was 
at work, she went to Tom’s home after 
school ; and such days were holidays to his 
parents as well as to the child. She would 
come tripping up the walk, hang her neat 
sun-bonnet upon the nail appropriated to 
that purpose, make herself tidy, and then 


SHALL LEAD TO GLORIOUS DAY. 


219 


look around for some opportunity to do a 
kindly act. Never so happy as when al- 
lowed to officiate as housekeeper, she would 
light the lire, lay the table, and prepare 
supper, all the while talking with anima- 
tion or humming softly. 

Familiar with every plant in the garden, 
Uncle Jim, as she had been taught to call 
Mr. Magee, was often informed by her of 
some new development, and challenged to 
admire some wonderful growth in leaf or 
vine. Flowers were her especial admiration, 
and a stray seed of the English marigold 
having found lodgment in the soil under the 
window of her room, she was henceforth rich 
in floral treasures. Carefully protected and 
watered, it was as fine a specimen of the old- 
fashioned flower as one would wish to see. Oc- 
casionally, Kate would despoil the plant of some 
golden crown, that she might admire it in the 
tiny vase which Mrs. Kichards had given her ; 
yet, if opportunity offered, she was sure to be- 
stow the crown upon one of her friends. 


220 


TIIE DARKEST WAY OFTTIMES 


One afternoon, slie went from school, hold- 
ing daintily a small bouquet intended for 
Mrs. Magee. “ I’ll put one of my own posies 
with it,” she said aloud, as was her way. 
“ That’ll pay a little for my new apron Aunt 
Ann made, and the shoes Mr. Tom bought. 
He’ll like to see the flowers. I know he 
will. Mother used to say God painted them. 
O dear ! I wonder if father couldn’t be like 
Uncle Jim. Seems as though he might.” 

Her flowers were greatly praised, and, 
placed in a conspicuous position, quite 
adorned the room. She flitted about, mov- 
ing a chair here, and brushing away a grain 
of dust there, but looking wistfully at Mr. 
Magee, from time to time, as though not 
entirely satisfied. 

“"What is it?” he asked, at length. “You 
can’t expect a rough, old fellow like me to care 
as much for posies as you do ; but you say all 
the words, and I’ll say amen to them.” 

“ ’T wasn’t the flowers. I ain’t thinking of 
them,” she answered, blushing. 


SHALL LEAD TO GLORIOUS DAY. 


221 


“ What then? I ain’t very cross, this after- 
noon, so you needn’t be afraid of me.” 

“I want to say something about my fa- 
ther,” she then half whispered. “ Aunt 
Patsy don’t like to have me talk about him. 
But I want to.” 

“ Say on, child, just anything you want 
to,” responded Mr. Magee, drawing her 
nearer to him, and resting one hand upon 
her head. 

“But I want to ask you something per- 
haps you wmn’t like.” 

“Ask anything you want to, and I’ll an- 
swer the best I know.” 

“Was my father any worse than you used 
to be ? ” 

An expression of pain, flitted across the 
man’s face ; yet he replied promptly : “ He 
wasn’t a bit worse in the sight of God.” 

“ I know he took money, and that was 
what he had to go to prison for; but was 
he wickeder ? ” Kate hastened to say. 

“Ho, child; perhaps he wa’n’t so wicked. 


222 


THE DARKEST WAY OFTTIMES 


Rum made him bad, and rum made me bad. 
But be was the smartest, and it didn’t show 
out tbe same way. I liain’t been an lionest 
man any more than him, and ’tain’t likely 
lie’s behaved worse than I have.” 

“ Then, couldn’t he be good, same as you 
are now, Uncle Jim?” 

“ Yes, child, he could be a great deal bet- 
ter than I am. He liain’t sinned past being 
forgiven. ’Twas a thief that the Saviour 
forgive when he was dying. You’ve read 
about that, Katy ? ” 

“Yes,” she answered, with a bright smile. 

“ And that’s what father is — a thief. I wish 
I could see father ; I’d like to tell him 
about that, and ask him to pray to God.” 

“You can pray for him yourself, Katy.” 

“So I do, Uncle Jim, every day; and I 
know God hears me, because I feel it in my 
heart. But it don’t seem as though I could 
wait nine whole years to see father. Per- - 
haps, when I get large, I can earn some 
money, and go to see him. I know he’d be 


SHILL LEAD TO GLORIOUS DAY. 


223 


glad, because lie hadn’t been drinking that 
awful stuff.” 

Jim Magee looked earnestly at the 
speaker, whose eyes were uplifted to his, 
wondering how any father could turn from 
so sweet a child, and feeling a bitter pang 
of remorse for his own misdoings. It may 
be that little Kate divined this; for she said 
presently : “ I’m glad you’re so good now ; 
and you know God forgives all our sins, if 
we ask him.” 

Dear comforter ! Truly, a little child was 
leading the wanderers back to their Father’s 
house, beguiling the way with songs and 
words of simple wisdom. 

Patsy Quinn was a better woman than she 
had been when she dwelt alone; a far hap- 
pier woman, too, although she was more 
serious, and less inclined to idle jesting. 
Regular in her attendance at church on the 
Sabbath, she was gaining in self-respect 
as. well as in religious knowledge. Her 
temporal prospects, too, were improving — 


221 


TI1E DARKEST WAY OFTTIMES 


how, she could liardlj have told ; yet one 
dollar seemed to do the work of two, and 
comforts were multiplied. In various ways, 
she was assisted by friends who were care- 
ful not to wound her independence. Kate 
Moran’s support was no tax upon her ; 
indeed, she complained that she was not al- 
lowed to do more for the child. 

Formerly, she had preferred working in 
the mill to remaining at home. The din 
and rattle of machinery distracted her 
thoughts from herself, and the crowd of faces 
furnished objects of curiosity/ For many 
long years, Patsy Quinn had wished to for- 
get the past; now, she was willing to stand 
face to face with her life, and know the full 
extent of her sinning. To repent and be 
forgiven was her strongest desire; and yet 
she craved human sympathy and counsel. 
"Was ever another woman whose experience 
had been akin to hers — another who, giving 
so much of blind, passionate love, had been 
so basely requited ? Was there another who 


SHALL LEAD TO GLORIOUS DAY. 


225 


liad hoped so much only to find each hope 
crushed by one who had pledged himself to 
love, honor, and cherish her until death 
should them part? 

She knew there were many disappointed, 
heart-broken women, but they were not like 
her — oh ! no. She said this often to her- 
self, as she looked around upon others. 
They had been subdued to meek acquies- 
cence, or conquered to abject servitude ; 
while, in her heart, the anger had burned 
fiercer for every wrong endured. In assum- 
ing the marriage vows, she believed that she 
gave but measure for measure ; and no after- 
experience could convince her that she had 
not a right thus to believe. 

Conquered! Subdued! Every instinct of 
her nature revolted against yielding to ty- 
rannical exactions; although she would have 
shrunk from no sacrifice which love de- 
manded. Too proud to remonstrate, she had 
suffered in silence — starving, freezing, and 
yet counting such privations of small mo- 


226 * THE DARKEST WAY OFTTIMES 

ment compared with the hunger of her 
heart. 

If by any possibility of training her hus- 
band could have been educated to understand 
and appreciate her, his habitual drunkenness 
made it certain that he never would. It is 
not too much to say that he hated both wife 
and child : the former, because she refused to 
work for his support; and the latter, because 
obedience was refused. Patsy Quinn fos- 
tered the defiant spirit of her boy; and, bit- 
ter as was her grief when he left her with 
no farewell word, she rejoiced that he had 
escaped from his father. Two years longer 
she dragged out a miserable existence, and 
then she was free — no one claiming from her 
aught beyond the common amenities of life. 
She had drifted away from relatives and 
friends whom she had now no desire to 
seek. 

Hot a tear did she shed over her hus- 
band’s grave; not a sigh did she give to his 
memory. Henceforth, she was to live as 


SHALL LEAD TO GLORIOUS DAY. 227 

though lie had never crossed lier path. This 
she willed to do, and despised herself that 
she failed in its performance. 

Iler son, Ilolton Quinn, was dead — for 
aught she knew to the contrary — no message 
from him having reached her since his de- 
parture. How that she was alone, poor, 
wretched, and ignorant, she loved him all 
the more fondly — fainting, starving, for his 
presence. Denied this, she grew strangely 
cold and taciturn, until the kindness received 
during a severe illness moved her torpid 
heart. Since then, she had been willing to 
lend a helping hand to any in distress ; and 
Tom Magee’s praises of her were not un- 
deserved. 

“I love you ’most as much as I did 'my 
own mother,” said Ivaty Moran, one evening, 
when they sat side by side after the day’s 
labor was over. 

For answer to this, Patsy kissed the fair 
brow of her companion, while a tear stole 
down her cheek. “I wish I was as good a 


228 


THE DARKEST WAY 0FTTIME8 


woman as your mother,” slie said, after a 
long silence. 

“ Mother was good,” replied the child. 
“She loved God, and tried to do right.” 

“I guess ’twas easier for her to do right 
than ’tis for me,” was the response. “I’m a 
dreadful wicked woman.” 

This same confession Mrs. Quinn after- 
wards made to Tom Magee as they talked of 
their personal experience ; and, when he an- 
swered that she was no worse than others, 
she shook her head doubtfully. 

“I never blamed myself till lately,” she 
said. “ I used to think my hard lot was all 
somebody’s else fault; and now I can’t see 
but what a good deal of it was. But I 
might done different myself. I might try to 
learn my boy something about the Bible. 
If I could see him now, I’d go down on my 
knees, and beg of him to do right. I wonder 
how he looks, if he’s living. Sometimes I 
wake up in the night, feeling as though he 
was in trouble. O Tom ! I tell you I’ve 


SHALL LEAD TO GLORIOUS DAY. 


229 


done a good deal that I am sorry for : so 
much, it seems as though God couldn’t for- 
give me.” 

“ Then what do you think of me ? ” asked 
Tom. “I’ve been very wicked; but I believe 
God has forgiven every one of my sins. 
And there’s father.” 

“ I know, and it just goes to my heart 
every time I see him. I heard him pray, the 
other night, and ’twas like he was asking 
some one right near to him. I wouldn’t be- 
lieved it of Jim Magee, and he drinking so 
many years. You’ve done a wonderful work, 
my lad.” 

“ f Yet not I, but the grace of God.’” 

“It’s like coming up out of a pit, isn’t it, 
my lad ? ” 

“Yes,” was the reply. 

“And, Tom, do you care for what you 
used to? The drink, I mean.” 

“ I don’t think about it • much now, Patsy, 
unless I smell it.” 

“You wouldn’t drink wine?” 


230 


THE DARKEST WAY OFTTIMES 


“No, that I wouldn’t, if the King asked 
me. It’s all the same with other liquor for 
making drunkards ; and I’d rather die than 
he a drunkard. Then there’s my promise, 
I never’ll go back on that.” 

“No, my lad, I know you won’t, and 
you’re right not to touch the beer, as they 
say you don’t. You’re bringing the boys 
round wonderful. They talk about you 
in the mill. Miss "Wetherbee says there 
couldn’t anybody changed more than you 
have. You ain’t going to stay at Biley’s 
always, be you?” 

“Perhaps not,” answered the young man 
with a smile. “ But I’ll stay till I’m fit 
for other work. I’m trying my hand at 
studying books a little.” 

“I guess I might been a scholar,” said 
Patsy, resuming the conversation after a long 
silence. “I could learn anything I tried. 
But, you see, I was married too young. I 
ain’t quite eighteen years older than my 
boy.” 


* SHALL LEAD TO GLORIOUS DAY. 


231 


For once slie was inclined to talk of lier- 
self; and to no one else could slie speak so 
freely as to this young man. They had 
many traits of character in sympathy, and 
many common interests. She taught him 
some valuable lessons, while he encouraged 
and aided her. As they were about to 
separate, she asked him the question which 
had often trembled upon her lips : “ How did 
you know when you was a Christian ? ” 

Tom hesitated before replying; then, his 
face radiant with joy, he said, “I knew it 
by the change in my feelings. My whole 
heart went out in love to God and 
Christ. I was willing to do anything or be 
anything God would have me. I was so 
happy, I wanted to tell everybody how I 
felt.” 

“ And did this all come at once ? ” 

“No, I don’t think it did; but I can’t 
tell exactly. I kept thinking about God, 
and praying that he would forgive my sins, 
and fill my heart with love for him ; and all 


THE DARKEST WAY OFTTIMES 


23'2 

the time I tried to do wliat I thought was 
my duty. By-and-by, it seemed some way 
as though I was forgetting my sins, and 
thinking more about God’s goodness and 
mercy.” 

“O Tom! that’s just the way I feel some- 
times. I forget all about myself for a little 
while, and then I’m so happy. Seems as 
though the whole world was all made over 
new.” 

“ That’s because your heart’s made over 
new, Patsy.” 

“ hTo, no, it can’t be that, my lad. There’s 
my sins all the same, just as black as ever; 
and I hain’t no right to be so happy. 
’Tain’t like as though I’d been a good woman 
all my life.” 

“ There ain’t anybody so good but they 
must come to Christ for salvation, just the 
same as you and me. That’s what the min- 
ister says, and the Bible, too. When Christ 
was crucified, he made atonement for the 
sins of the' whole world. So, you see, ’tain’t 


SHALL LEAD TO GLORIOUS DAY. 


233 


as though we’cl got to do it for ourselves. I 
think of that when my sins begin to rise up 
before me like a mountain. Wilbur Richards 
kept telling that over and over to me, every 
time I talked about how wicked I’d been.” 

“ Yes, Tom, I know that’s true ; but I 
don’t seem to get hold of it firm as I want 
to. May be I will, though, and then — ” 

“ Then you’ll be a happy Christian. 
Good-niglit.” 

Patsy Quinn did not care to sleep that 
night. The blessed truth that she had no- 
thing to do with her sins beyond accepting 
their full and free forgiveness, with a grate- 
ful, loving heart, gradually dawned upon 
her. She rested in the thought of God’s in- 
finite compassion, and, when the morning 
bells roused her, she did not know whether 
she had dreamed or waked. She only knew 
that the burden had gone from her soul, and 
that a cloud ho longer concealed the Sun 
of Righteousness from her view. 

Mrs. Richards, who called upon her 


234 : 


THE DARKEST WAY OFTTIMES 


soon after this, was deeply impressed by her 
glad, cheerful spirit. There was no unwill- 
ingness to speak of what God had done for 
her ; no coldness in her manner. So far 
from this, her visitor felt rebuked by her 
warm, living faith. 

“ God has led ns by different paths, but 
I trust we shall both reach the land where 
there is no more sorrow or disappointment.” 

“Yes, Mis Richards,” Patsy replied to 
this remark. “ I’ve thought a good many 
times that the way I’ve come was darkest 
of any, but it don’t make no difference now. 
I’ve got the more to be thankful for, seeing 
I’ve more to be forgiven ; and I’m sure I 
never’ll be tired thanking God.” 

The visitor gazed around the homely room, 
and, contrasting her own lot with that of 
this woman, wondered that she had ever 
dared to repine. All unconsciously, Patsy 
Quinn had preached to her ail eloquent ser- 
mon. The same afternoon she saw Mr. 
Magee and his wife; not jubilant as was 


235 


SHALL LEAD TO GLORIOUS DAY. 

tlieir friend, yet tranquilly happy, striving in 
these last days of their married life to make 
amends for the past. 

“I thank you for coming,” said the hus- 
band. “ It’s kind in you to think of us. 
I’ve often told Ann that we owe everything 
to you and your son. Tom never comes 
from your house without being helped, and, 
when he’s helped, we are. He’s a good boy 
to us.” 

“Yes, Mr. Magee, he is a good boy, and 
I know he must be a great comfort to you. 
I trust you will live to see him an honorable 
man. Wilbur expects great things of him, 
and says Mr. Riley must look for some one 
to take his place in the wood-yard. Tom is 
improving rapidly. He must spend a great 
deal of time in study.” 

How much no one but himself knew, 
although his parents were sure that he 
studied when he should have been sleeping. 
Thus far, Wilbur Richards had been his 
teacher, hut in the autumn he commenced 


230 


THE DARKEST WAY OFTTIME3 


attending an evening school, wliere his desire 
for knowledge received a new impulse. 
There seemed no limit to his powers of 
endurance. Working through the day, and 
studying far into the night, lie. was never ex- 
hausted or overwearied. 

Midwinter, however, brought other claims 
upon his time. His father, whose health had 
gradually failed through the cold season, 
was at length prostrated by a fatal disease. 
Two weeks of watching and assiduous care 
was all which wife and son could give to 
him whose hold upon life was fast loosening. 
Two weeks of suffering such as few are 
called to endure terminated the earthly 
career of James Magee. 

There was hope in his death. Hay, more, 
a full assurance that he had entered into the 
rest which remaineth for the people of God. 
Yet the penalty of his sin followed him to 
his dying hour. He should have lived to a 
good old age, each day marked by some 
noble act, and some advance in the upward 


SIIALL LEAD TO GLORIOUS DAY. 


237 


way. He might liave done so much. He had 
done so little. This was his constant regret. 

“ Tom, my boy, try and do good enough 
to make up for me,” he once said to his 
son. “Don’t let our name he cursed. I’ve 
helped pull down a good many. I tried to 
count, the other day, but I couldn’t. You’ll 
help folks up, my boy.” 

“ I mean to,” was the reply. “ Our name 
sha’n’t be cursed. I mean to make it honor- 
able.” 

The first honor was awarded to this name 
when it was registered in the church-book, 
and Tom Magee was acknowledged as “a 
member in good and regular standing.” A 
year’s trial had proved his sincerity, and 
his strength to resist temptation. 

Hever came a happier day to Wilbur 
Eichards than when this friend publicly 
pledged himself to a life of holiness. Hot 
alone did he stand in the presence of the 
great congregation. Others were by his 
side making the same vows. Among these 


238 


THE DARKEST WAY OFTTIMES 


were Jackson W etherbee and Robert Mor- 
rison ; tlie latter liaving been led step by 
step, until at last lie acknowledged allegiance 
to the Heavenly Master. 

“I never’ d done it but for you, Tom,” 
he exclaimed, as the two talked together. 
“ God bless you, and make every day of 
your life better than the one before it ! 
Grandmother thinks you’re near perfect, and 
father’s given up laughing about religion 
since you talked to him. lie don’t try to 
discourage me, either.” 

Mr. Morrison was too wise to do that ; for, 
ridicule religion as he might, he knew that 
his boy needed its restraining influence. 
Ilis mother’s prayers and counsels had been 
unheeded. Deeply she had grieved, but now 
a brighter day had dawned upon her. She 
witnessed the solemn service which gave to 
the church so m-ucli of youthful vigor and 
enthusiasm, gazing with tear-dimmed eyes 
upon the scene over which angels rejoiced. 

She did not see the man who, coming in 


SHALL LEAD TO GLORIOUS DAY. 


239 


late, took an obscure seat, wishing to be un- 
observed. She did not know that the cher- 
ished hope of years gave some promise of - 
fulfilment. Not until she was leaving the 
house, and her arm was drawn within that 
of her son, w r as she aware of his presence, 
“ Thank God !” she then ejaculated fervently. 
“ Thank God !” she repeated again and again, 
with closed lips. 

Robert walked by her side in silence. 
Later, when he entered her room, he said, 
“We’ll keep on praying, grandmother.” 

“ Yes, child,” she answered, laying her 
hand upon his head as he threw himself at 
her feet. “My faith’s greatly strengthened. 
Many a time I’ve sat here Sundays, think- 
ing over about your father, and wishing he 
was a Christian, so to train his children 
right; but I never thought about your teach- 
ing him till lately. God’s ways ain’t like 
ours, and he knows best. Blessed be his 
name, he don’t need to ask us about it. 
You’ve got a great responsibility on you 


24:0 


THE DARKEST WAY OFTTIMES 


now. Ilobert. All tlie family will be look- 
ing to you to see bow you live.” 

“I know it, and I mean to do as well as 
I can. But I’ve got a good deal to figlit 
against. I’m quick-tempered, and it don’t 
take much to make me flash up, before I 
think. The bad words are almost out be- 
fore I know they’re coming; and then I feel 
so guilty, I’m almost afraid to pray.” 

Didn’t the good old grandmother know 
all about this? Hadn’t she watched him, 
anxiously noting the flushed face and parted 
lips when some opposition or disappointment 
troubled him? “You ain’t so hasty as you 
was a spell ago,” she said, in her homely 
way. “Since you give up liquor and to- 
bacco, you’ve been a different boy.” 

“ I guess I have,” was the hearty re- 
sponse. “I was growing ugly every day, 
and I knew it. I don’t know what I’d 
come to if I’d kept on. I’ve done so many 
things I’m ashamed of. When Tom Magee 
left us, I was one that swore he should 


SHALL LEAD TO GLORIOUS DAY. 


241 


come back, and drink just as lie used to. 
I didn’t believe he’d hold out; though, way- 
down in my heart, I almost hoped he 
would. Isn’t he splendid , now, grand- 
mother ?” 

“lie’s good, and that’s the best praise, 
lie’s going to make a smart man. I sup- 
pose he’d been smart anyway, if he’d kept 
on drinking. Folks called his father 
smart.” 

“Yes, and Mr. Magee was good at last,” 
said [Robert musingly. 

“Yes, at last,” replied the aged Christian. 
“He began his work at the eleventh hour; 
and there’s no doubt but lie’s received his 
crown. But, child, you’ll want some stars 
in your crown ; and the souls you help to 
save will shine as stars.” 

“Yes, grandmother, I’ll want a starry 
crown.” 

The speaker was a very child in his sim- 
ple earnestness that day. His boastful con- 
fidence had given place to humility, and 


242 


THE DARKEST WAY 0FTTIMES 


liis impetuous spirit had been subdued by 
the grace of God. The change in him was 
wonderful; less marked than in Tom Ma- 
gee : yet of such might it well be said, “ A 
miracle has been wrought.” 

One who had for the first time witnessed 
the simple rites of admission to a Christian 
church expressed his admiration for his 
old companion -in characteristic language. 
“ Tom’s a stunner,” he remarked emphati- 
cally. C( ’Twa’n’t no make believe when he 
promised what the minister read.” 

“He’s pretty much tied up, now,” was 
the reply. “ I wouldn’t give much for 
him.” 

“ Yes, you would, Dick. If you was in a 
tight place, you would rather see Tom Ma- 
gee coming than a dozen common fellows. 
Didn’t he help you home when you’d got 
a big brick in your hat, and ain’t he always 
doing something for somebody ? The other 
night, when I went to the prayer-meeting, 
after Tom give me a lift about that money, 


SHALL LEAD TO GLORIOUS DAY. 


213 


tlie minister read about Christ, as he called him, 
going about doing good ; and I couldn’t help 
thinking Tom was just like him.” 

“ What’s he good for, on a time ?” was . 
now asked, as though it could never be an- 
swered to his credit. 

“ What do you mean by ‘ a time ? ’ ” 

“Why — why — such as we used to have.” 

“ Be you such a fool that you don’t 
know lie’s got something better to do than 
smoke a dirty pipe and drink rot-gut whis- 
key? Don’t he study every night, and ain’t 
he going to be a scholar? Ain’t he invited 
to places where you and I wouldn’t know 
what to do with ourselves? He ain’t none 
of your sneaks, though. ’Tain’t no matter 
how ragged and dirty I am; he always 
comes right up to me and shakes hands, just 
as though I was good as he is. There sha’n’t 
nobody talk against him when I’m round.” 

“I wa’n’t talking against him,” now said 
the young man who had offended. “I only 
asked a question.” 


THE DARKEST WAY OFTTIMES 


244 


“And I’ll ask you a question. Wouldn’t 
you rather be in Tom Magee’s boots than 
in your own ? No shamming. Tell the 
truth once, if you can, and shame the 


devil you’ve served so long.” 


“ I couldn’t drink no more liquor.” 

“Hot a drop.” 

“Hor swear.” 

“Ho, siree; nor lie, neither. You’d have 
to be pious oufr and out, just as he is. On 
the square, and no mistake.” 

“’Tain’t all pious folks that’s always on 
the square,” was the exclamation which 



and break their word, same as anybody.”,^- 
“Well, what if they do! Tom ain’t lik^' 
that. If he told me a thing, I’d know 
’twas true anyway. But look here, Dick, 
you hain’t answered my question.” 


“What if I hain’t? I ain’t obliged to jvl 


answer it if I don’t want to.” 




Jr Ho ; but you ought to be man enough 













t- 




















































































* 

* 

* 


« 


























































-V 


V 








9 




• • 



THE SERMON ON THE RIVER BANK —Page 245, 


\ 


SHALL LEAD TO GLORIOUS DAY. 


245 


to do it. You might as well remember that 
we’ve all got to die.” 

“ Hold on there, Robinson, unless you’re 
going to preach a sermon. If you be, take 
a text, and go at it ship-shape.” 

By this time, the young men had reached 
a retired spot on the hank of the river, and 
disposed themselves comfortably upon the 
ground. There were eight, all of whom, 
contrary to their usual custom, had attended 
church, and all more or less impressed by 
what they had seen and heard. 

u Try your tongue at it, Robinson. Let’s 
see what you’re good for in that line.” 

There was a clamor of voices calling for 
the sermon ; and, at length, Harlan Robin- 
son began to speak, half jestingly and yet 
half in earnest. Recalling some exhortations 
which he had heard at different times, he 
endeavored to repeat them. 

“ We’ll let the text go. ’Tain’t much 
matter about that,” he said, by way of intro- 
duction. “ My friends, we’ve all got to die, 


246 THE DARKEST WAY OFTTIMES 

every one of ns ; and ’tain’t right for ns to 
live as though w r e wa’n’t going to die. 
Every one of us has got a soul, and that’s 
going to live for ever. ’Tain’t certain 
where, hut ’twill be in one place or another ; 
and it all depends on how you behave. If 
you drink liquor, and lie, and steal, you 11 
go to hell, sure’s there is one. Ho mistake 
about that. The Bible says so. 

ci A great many hundred years ago, Christ 
died on the cross to make an atonement for 
your sins. If anybody should die to save you 
from going to State’s prison, you’d go down on 
your knees to him and love him, if you had any 
heart at all. How, wliat’s the reason you don’t 
love Christ? Just because you’re so wicked. 
It’s a wonder of mercies God let’s you live on 
his earth. You break ’most all his command- 
ments right along ; and, to tell the whole truth, 
you’re a miserable set of sinne s.” 

Here there was some interruption, but the 
speaker claimed the right to finish his ser- 
mon, and proceeded : 


SHALL LEAD TO GLORIOUS DAY. 


247 


“How, my friends, you ought to repent 
of your sins, and be good Christians. Then 
you’d be sure of going to heaven, besides 
being a good deal better off here in this \vorld. 
You’d be decent and respectable if you was. 
You’d give up liquor and tobacco just as 
Tom Magee has.” 

“How do you know that?” now exclaim- 
ed one of the audience. “There’s a sight 
of men that’s Christians that drink liquor, 
and ’most all of them use tobacco.” 

. “ Can’t help that,” was the response. 
“Them ain’t the kind I mean. It’s the best 
kind I mean, such as Tom Magee, and such 
as I’d be, if I pretended to be a Christian at 
all. 

“ How, my friends, I warn you all against 
the dangers of delay. Life is short, and we 
don’t none of us know whose turn ’twill be 
to die first.” 

This was more than the careless audience 
had desired; more, also, than the preacher 
had intended. Unconsciously, his manner 


248 


TIIE DARKEST WAY OFTTIMES 


had changed, so that this closing sentence was 
pronounced in a tone not unworthy its import. 

An awkward silenco succeeded, broken, 
at length, by one who exclaimed, “ You’ve 
done a big thing in the preaching line. 
Now, couldn’t you give ns a hymn, and 
throw in a short prayer ?” 

Itesponsive to this, Itobinson began to 
sing a hymn, the refrain of which, “ Come 
to Jesus,” is so familiar to all Christians. 
The voice which lingered over these words 
was singularly sweet and plaintive, and be- 
fore the singer had ceased quite a crowd 
gathered about him. 

‘‘ Let’s have another of the same sort,” said 
a stranger. “That makes me think of the 
meetings I used to go to when I was a boy.” 

But Robinson was in no mood to prolong 
the entertainment, and, without replying to 
those who continued to urge him, walked 
rapidly away. 

“ He ought to prayed,” remarked one, look- 
ing after him who had left them. 


SHALL LEAD TO GLORIOUS DAY. 


249 


“Shut up, and remember what he said,” 
rejoined another. “There’s need enough of 
it. If Tom Magee was here, he’d tell you 
so, and he knows. He’s got an insurance for 
t’other side of Jordan, and the rest of us 
ought to have.” 

There is still another party whom we must 
follow on their way from church. This 
party, consisting of Mrs. Magee and her son, 
Mrs. Quinn, and Katy Moran, were not in- 
clined to much conversation until they had 
crossed the bridge and were walking in the 
river path. 

“ ’Twas beautiful ! ” then exclaimed the 
child. “ I was so glad, I wanted to cry. 
Oh! Mr. Tom, I should ’most think you’d 
want to die, so you could go to heaven right 
off.” 

“ I hope to go there when I die,” replied 
the young man, smiling down into Katy’s 
upturned face. “But I hope to do some 
good in the world before then.” 

“You’re doing good every minute,” Patsy 


250 


THE DARKEST WAY OFTTIMES 


responded. “It does me good just to look 
at you.” 

Mrs. Magee silently echoed this .assertion. 
Her son was all the world to her; and his 
presence gladdened her heart as the rays of 
the sun gladden the waiting earth. She lis- 
tened while her companions talked of what 
had transpired that day. 

“Do you feel any different?” asked Mrs. 
Quinn hesitatingly, not quite sure that Tom 
would consider this a proper question. 

“I feel as though the name was written in 
my forehead,” he replied. “ It seems as 
though the whole world knew that I have 
promised to live soberly, righteously, and 
godly. ’Twas just what I’ve promised a good 
many times on my knees ; but, now I’ve 
sealed the promise, I’m happier than I ever 
was before. Patsy, you and mother must join 
the church; and don’t put it off very long.” 

“ Give me a year, my lad, same as you 
wanted. Then, if I hold out — ” 

“Hold out! You can’t go back.” 


SHALL LEAD TO GLORIOUS DAY. 


251 


“No, no! I don’t mean that,” the 
woman hastened to say. “But I want to 
feel a little surer of myself.” 

Time passed, and, judging by her works, 
Patsy Quinn was growing in grace, laying 
aside many habits which had been so long 
indulged that they seemed a part of her 
very nature. She was gentle and tender, 
forgiving and humble. She, to whom so 
much had been forgiven, could not justly 
refuse to pardon those who had offended 
against her. If only her boy would return, 
her cup of blessing would overflow. 

In some measure, Tom Magee supplied 
his place; and when, by an arrangement 
advantageous to all concerned, two fam- 
ilies were united under the old roof, she re- 
joiced that her life of loneliness was at an 
end. Mr. Riley, having purchased the house 
at Lion’s Mouth, wished Tom to take a lease 
of the premises. Repairs and additions were 
to be made, giving ample accommodations for 
four people of simple tastes. An acre of 


252 


TIIE DARKEST WAY OFTTIMES 


land was enclosed, and through the winter 
various plans were discussed for cultivating 
this land. Spring opened early, as if to give 
our friends an opportunity to test their plans 
before the first enthusiasm had subsided. 
All shared in the work of arranging beds, 
planting, sowing, and weeding. Flowers 
and vegetables were intermingled. A rustic 
arbor, the pride of the household, was cov- 
ered with scarlet runners, from the brilliant 
blossoms of which humming-birds sipped 
their dainty food. 

Every square foot of the garden boasted 
some peculiar treasure. But for her ideas 
of duty, Katy Moran would have spent 
every waking hour in admiring birds and 
flowers. As it was, she gave double dili- 
gence to her tasks, that she might gain time 
for her favorite recreation. 

To this there was but one drawback. Her 
pet kitten, beginning to develop a cat’s pro- 
pensities, lay in wait for the bright creatures 
whose songs made the air vocal with their 


SHALL LEAD TO GLORIOUS DAY. 


253 


music. Flitting from tlie neighboring tree- 
tops to some broad leaf or mound of earth 
in search of food, many an ill-fated bird fell 
a victim to puss’s remorseless appetite. 

“I can’t love you, if you kill the darling 
birds,” Katy exclaimed, one day, while ex- 
amining the variously colored feathers she 
had found under an old currant-bush. “ I 
must ask Mr. Tom to carry you off where 
you can’t never come back.” 

“ But you’ll miss your kitty,” said her 
friend, when she made this request. 

‘‘I know it,” she replied, in a choked 
voice. “ But I’d rather have the birds, if I 
can’t have but one. My Sabbatli-school 
teacher says, sometimes we have to decide 
between two ways, and then we must think 
about it a good while, and make up our 
minds real strong. Then, she says, w r e can’t 
have everything, and so we must choose 
what we want most. I want kitty, and I 
want the birds; but I can’t have both. 
Will you take kitty away, Mr. Tom?” 


254 


THE GLORIOUS DAY. 


“Yes, Katy, I’ll take lier, and tliank you 
for the lesson you’ve taught me.” 

“What lesson?” she asked wonderingly. 

“ The lesson of choice,” he replied. “ If 
there was something you ought to do, and 
something entirely different you wanted to 
do, which would you choose?” 

“I’d do what I ought to, because that 
would be right,” was her reply. 

“But it might be very hard. Do you 
really believe you could, Ivaty ? ” 

“Yes, if I knew I ought to. But what 
made you ask me, Mr. Tom?” A look of 
apprehension overspread her face ; and, as 
her companion seemed not to have heard 
her question, she repeated it. 

“I was thinking,” he said, at length. 

“Was you thinking of my father?” 

“Yes, Katy, I was.” 

“ I’ll be grown up when he comes out of pri- 
son,” she half whispered. “ Perhaps he’ll want 
me to live with him. If he does, I must. Don’t 
you suppose he’ll be a good man some time?” 


CHAPTER YI. 


THE TEMPTER AND THE TEMPTED MUST EACn 
HIS BURDENS BEAR. 

OM MAGEE liad seen Duke Moran 
a sullen, unyielding man, whom 
punishment had not conquered, 
and who gave no token of re- 
pentance. Efever a tear, never a quivering 
lip or softened glance betrayed emotion. 

“ He works like a machine,” was the 
description given of him by the officer hav- 
ing him in charge. “He hain’t disobeyed 
orders since he come here, but I count him 
one of our hardest cases. ' He hain’t com- 
plained of sickness, though he’s fallen to 
the floor twice in a dead faint, and I often 
caution him against overwork. The chaplain 
has tried to gain his confidence, but it’s of 
no use.” 



256 


THE TEMPTER AND THE TEMPTED 


It may have cost Duke Moran ail effort 
to maintain the indifference with which he 
met his visitor, but, if so, the effort was well 
concealed. He listened to what the young 
man said without asking a question. Once 
only his face flushed as his daughter’s name 
was spoken. He did not so much as raise 
his eyes to his companion. 

“ Have you any message to send her ? ” 
asked Tom. 

“Ho,” was the laconic reply. 

“But if she knows I have seen you — ” 

“ She needn’t know it,” interrupted her 
father. “ Better keep it to yourself.” 

“Perhaps so,” responded the young man. 
“Perhaps it would have been better if I 
had not come; but, now that I am here, I 
have something to tell you which I hope 
you will remember. There are six people 
pledged to pray for you every day while 
you live : Mrs. Richards and Wilbur, Mrs. 
Quinn and Katy, my mother and myself. 
We have been praying for you for more 


MUST EACH IIIS BURDENS BEAR. 


25 ? 


than a year, and some time you can calcu- 
late about how many prayers have been 
offered. Good-by.” 

The prisoner was human, and, brutalized 
though he had been by the long and ex- 
cessive use of alcoholic drinks, it must needs 
be that something of humanity remained. 
Yet he would not allow one glimpse of this 
to be seen. Back to his work he went, 
this break in prison life producing no visible 
effect. 

Tom Magee was sadly disappointed in 
the result of this visit. He had hoped to 
find the bad man’s heart softened; hoped, 
also, to have some comforting word for 
Katy, who was beginning to feel deeply the 
disgrace which attached to her. 

After giving to Wilbur Richards a detail- 
ed account of his visit, he said: “How, what 
shall we do?” 

“Pray,” was the reply. “Praying breath 
was never spent in vain. You and I know 
that by experience. It will not be best to 


258 THE TEMPTER AND THE TEMPTED 

tell Katy that you have seen her father. 
Seven years more of confinement may work 
a marvellous change in him. And then, if 
he should claim his daughter, she will be 
old enough to decide for herself. She wfill 
be a young lady, a very lovely one, too, if 
we can judge from present appearances. I 
hope she won’t be spoiled with flattery.*’ 

“ I don’t believe it is possible to spoil 
her,” answered Tom warmly. “ She's a sin- 
cere Christian, if there ever was one. She 
understands things, too, better than a good 
many grown people, and flattery w T on’t amount 
to much with her. Of course she’ll know 
she’s handsome. She can’t help it.” 

“No more than you can help being aware 
of the same fact in regard to yourself,” said 
Wilbur Richards, smiling at the earnestness 
of his friend. “ There, now, don’t blush like 
a girl, but thank God for giving you such 
a passport to favor. It is better to attract 
than repel, and your work is to win souls 
for heaven.” 


MUST EACH HIS BUEDENS BEAK, 


259 


Thus was the young man beguiled from 
his despondency, and presently he was en- 
gaged in an animated discussion of ways 
and means for benefiting some poor children 
in the neighborhood. 

Patsy Quinn knew of his visit to the 
prison, and regretted that no apparent good 
had been accomplished; yet, remembering 
her own past obduracy, she was not dis- 
couraged. 

“ You’re not sure Duke Moran will ever 
be any better than he is now?” said Tom, 
in reply to some cheerful remark. 

“No, I ain’t,” she made answer. “We 
ain’t sure anybody will; but then, you see, 
Duke’s got feelings same as other folks, and 
’tain’t noways likely but what yonr going 
to see him made him think. He couldn’t 
help thinking about you after you come 
away. You told him how you happened to 
take Katy ? ” 

“ I told him all I know about it — just what 
anybody could see. It’s all strange to me 


260 THE TEMPT Eli AND THE TEMPTED 

now. That was the turning point with me. 
If I had left her and kept on fighting, I 
might be where Duke is.” 

“ Yes, you might, my lad, and the rest of 
us not been much better off. I don’t allow 
Katy to talk about her father, but I know she 
hain’t forgot him. She told me, the other 
day, she wanted to earn a lot of money 
before she’s eighteen. That will be when 
her father gets out. Mis Richards wants 
to pay everything for her. She’d take her 
right home, and be glad to.” 

“Does Katy want to go?” 

“Not unless we want to have her. For 
my part, I don’t see how we could get 
along without her. Seems as though I 
should give right up, if she went off.” 

Just then the child came bounding; in, 
radiant and happy. No wonder she was the 
joy of the household; its pride and inspi- 
ration. If her father had seen her, he might 
not have been able to resist her influence. 

Wretched man ! He was not so insensible 


MUST EACH II IS BURDENS BEAR. 2G1 

as lie seemed. Had lie once looked in tlie 
face of Tom Magee, liis stoicism would have 
given way. How lie longed for niglit, and 
the solitude of his cell ! He finished his 
allotted task, scarcely knowing how, and took 
his place in the rank of silent men, whose 
faces he had never seen. His brain was con- 
fused, his heart throbbed wildly. 

Alone, in the darkness, he thought of his 
wife and child. He remembered how he 
had sworn to love and cherish her w r ho had 
braved the anger of friends that she might 
give herself to him. He had loved her, as 
such as he may love. He recalled the time 
when her lightest word thrilled his inmost 
soul; when he would have laid down his 
life for her. Having some generous im- 
pulses and noble characteristics, her pres- 
ence stimulated these into the semblance of 
true generosity and nobility; while she, be- 
lieving his passionate declarations of undying 
love, consented to become his wife. 

He was a skilful workman, and might 


262 THE TEMPTER AND THE TEMPTED 

easily have acquired a fortune. But lie 
could not serve two masters. Men of his 
temperament must choose between total ab- 
stinence and drunkenness. Men of his na- 
ture will become brutes, under the influence 
of intoxicating liquor. His wflfe, too proud 
to return to her friends, clung to him 
through all abuse and poverty, dying while 
he lay drunk by her side. Often since his 
incarceration Duke Moran had wondered if 
his child was living, and sometimes he had 
longed to see her. 

Did he look forward to the time when he 
would be free — free to stand once more in 
the blessed sunshine, outside a prison's 
walls? Barely. Ten years seemed an eter- 
nity to him. He expected to serve his 
full term. How could he tell what might 
be then? His very name might be forgot- 
ten. 

The night after Tom Magee’s visit he felt 
a wild longing to know something of the 
world from which his visitor had come. He 


MUST EACH Ills BURDENS BEAR. 


2G3 


liad wished to be alone that he might 
think; before morning dawned, he desired 
nothing so much as to escape from the 
companionship of his own thoughts. 

The next day, his abilities were tried in a 
new department of labor, requiring more of 
skill and judgment. He welcomed this 
change, grasping eagerly the more delicate 
tools. He was obliged to think more of his 
work, and thus the hours were some- 
what beguiled of their weariness, but there 
was an undercurrent of thought he could 
not quite ignore. 

Six people praying for him! He could 
recall the faces of every one. Mrs. Richards 
and her son — he had seen them many a 
time, and knew well how luxurious was 
their home. He would have liked to be the 
owner of such a home. In his way, he had 
been ambitious, and a half sigh escaped him 
as he remembered his lost opportunities. 

From time to time, his work was exam- 
ined, and he knew that it was satisfactory. 


SGI THE TEMPTER AND THE TEMPTED 


The next day, a model was placed before 
him, which he was to imitate. Tie studied 
it, seeing where it might be improved, but 
doing simply what was required of him. 
Was he a mere machine? Was he content 
with the round of prison labor and prison 
discipline ? 

“It can’t be but what the leaven’s work- 
ing in his heart,” said Patsy Quinn, months 
after Tom Magee’s visit. “Folks can fight 
against God and conscience a good while ; 
but he don’t have drink to help him, and 
lie’ll have to give up some time. You must 
go to see him again. If it wa’n’t wicked, 
I’d hope he'd never’d come out of there. 
Just as sure as he does, Ivaty’ll think she 
ought to go and live with him ; and it don’t 
seem as though I could bear that. Could 
you, Tom?” 

“I don’t know,” replied the young man. 
“I don’t allow myself to think of it. I 
don’t know as we’re doing quite right to 
keep her here anyway. Mrs. Kichards could 


MUST EACH I1IS BURDENS BEAR. 


265 


bring her up differently from what we can. 
Wilbur says she has a great deal of musical 
talent, which ought to be cultivated. He 
could teach her music. She is twelve years 
old now.” 

“Yes, and old for her years. She under- 
stands some things now better than I did 
when I was married. She wants to learn 
how to do all kinds of work. She asked me 
yesterday how long ’t would be before she 
could earn money.” 

“ She thinks too much about earning 
money,” said Tom, a little impatiently. 
“ I’m able to support her and mother.” 

“Yes, my lad, I guess you be. Folks say 
you’ll get any price you ask, pretty soon. 
You’re mighty quick at figures, and what’s 
more, you’re to be trusted. Eiley says it’s a 
pity you shouldn’t do nothing but head-work ; 
but he’s glad they wanted you in the count- 
ing-room. He says, though, you won’t stay 
there long. There’s a good many got their eye 
on you. I’m that proud of you, my lad ! ” 


266 THE TEMPTER AND THE TEMPTED 

“ Patsy, do you remember the night I 
took Katy home?” 

“ Yes, Tom.” 

“So do I. God’s hand has led me all 
the way since then; and I have nothing 
which I did not receive from him.” 

The position now occupied by the young 
man was not of his own seeking. When 
asked to enter as clerk the counting-room 
of the largest corporation in the city, he had 
been far more surprised than were his 
friends. It was what Mr. Riley expected, 
and what some others knew would occur. He 
could go back to his old employment, if he 
so desired; but it was absolutely certain 
that he never would do this. 

At twenty his future was assured, and 
Wilbur Richards was proud of having 
helped him in the upwardway. The friend- 
ship of these young men was beautiful to 
behold. Each was influenced by the other ; 
unconsciously often, yet always for good. 
Both were earnest workers in the vineyard 


MUST EACH IIIS BURDENS BEAR. 267 


of the Lord; both striving to live at their 
best, and both looking forward to the re- 
compense of reward. 

“ I have so much work of my own now, 
and you are getting so strong, yon can af- 
ford to release me from my engagement to 
work for yon,” Tom remarked smilingly, 
as they were discussing some new plan for 
Christian labor. 66 Where yon need muscle 
for a hard pull, call on me, but you can do 
your own talking. Your powers of per- 
suasion have been fully tested ; and I’ve no 
intention of taking the words from your 
mouth. I’ll be a teacher in your school, but 
you must be your own superintendent.” 

“I can’t do nearly so well as you, Tom, 
in such a place,” was the reply. “I believe 
I feel as much as you; but I don’t impress 
others as you do. Why, you dear fellow, I 
almost envy you, though I wouldn’t take 
from you one jot of your power. It’s a 
glorious thing to live in this world, even if 
one can’t do everything.” 


268 THE TEMPTER AND THE TEMPTED 

Tom smiled, looked around the room in 
which they were seated, then, gazing into 
the face of his companion, extended his 
hand to grasp one which had so often been 
outstretched to him. “ I am a wrnnder to 
myself,” he said after a short silence. “ God's 
goodness to me is new every morning, ai’d 
fresh every evening. If I could find fitting 
words to express my appreciation of his 
mercy, I am sure I could move some 
hearts to love him.” 

“You do win some to love him, my 
friend. You seem to me to be always find- 
ing opportunities to do good.” 

“ I don’t find them, they find me,” was 
the reply. “ But one can do so little, and 
there is so much to be done. It’s a won- 
der that Christians are not more active, and 
I hope I sha’n’t be considered uncharitable 
if I say it’s a wonder they’re not more 
friendly. It’s of no use trying to do good 
to a poor man or woman, when you i f; de- 
termined to keep them at arm’s length. 


MUST EACH IIIS BURDENS BEAR. 


269 


And children are more sensitive about such 
things than grown people. Every coarse, 
rough boy has a certain amount of vanity, 
and brags about being as good as anybody, 
though , he knows all the time that lie’s a 
poor, miserable fellow. Christians ought 
to understand that, and act accordingly.” 

“ There is one who does,” Wilbur Rich- 
ards made reply. 

“Yes, yourself,” responded Tom quickly. 
“ I remember the first time I came into this 
room, and the first words you ever spoke 
to me. I felt as though you were as far 
above me as the heavens are above the 
earth, but you didn’t seem to feel it.” 

“ Tom, you’re a king in your way. I 
saw what was in you that day, and now, 
thank God, others are beginning to see. 
Everything goes on well at home?” 

“Yes, we never have any trouble there. 

Mother and Patsy are about as happy as 

^ . 

two women can be, each in her own way, 
and Katy lias but one trouble. I wish I 


270 THE TEMPTER AND THE TEMPTED 

didn’t feel sometimes that I ought to give 
up Kate to your mother, but I couldn’t 
love a sister better than I love that child, 
and home wouldn’t be the same place with- 
out her. I can work for her, but your 
mother is different from mine, and Katy 
would learn a great many things here that 
she can’t learn at Lion’s Mouth, because 
there’s nobody to teach her. She belongs 
in just such a room as this. I know her 
place as well as you do. Tell me what I 
ought to do.” 

“I can’t do that,” was answered. “We 
should be glad to have Katy here, and we 
would spare no expense in her education ; 
but you have a claim upon her, while we 
have none. Suppose you leave it with her 
to decide.” 

“ That would be hardly right. She knows 
too little of the world to understand how dif- 
ferent her life would be, if she should accept 
your mother’s kindness.” 

“You might explain it to her,” said Wil- 


MUST EACH HIS BURDENS BEAR. 271 


bur Richards, smiling. “ To tell tlie truth, 
however, my friend, I don’t believe she 
could be persuaded to leave her present 
home, unless she felt it to be her duty. She 
loves Aunt Patsy, and Ann, and Mr. Tom, 
too well for that. You needn’t take my 
word for it. There’s a sure way of discover- 
ing the truth.” 

That very evening Katy was consulted, 
the case being stated as plainly as possible. 
“Mrs. Richards is a wealthy woman, and 
will educate you as she would a daughter,” 
said Tom Magee to his protegee. “Wilbur 
will teach you music, and you will have as 
beautiful a home as any girl in the city.” 

The child listened, looking earnestly into 
the face of her friend. “ Do you really mean 
that you want me to go away?” she asked, 
at length, in a husky voice. 

“I have said nothing about what I 
wanted,” he answered. “That is not the 
question. Would you rather live with Mrs. 
Richards than to live here?” 


■ 272 


THE TEMPTER AND THE TEMPTED 


“I’d ratlier live here than anywhere else 
in the world,” she exclaimed with great spirit. 
“You know I would. But I don’t want 
to stay, if you don’t want me.” In her 
excitement, she had risen from her seat, 
and was now standing in a half-defiant atti- 
tude. 

“Come here, Katy,” Said Tom, extending 
his hands. 

“No,” she answered resolutely. “Just 
tell me if you want me to go away.” 

“Indeed, I don’t want you to go away.” 

“Then what made you talk so? It 
seemed almost as it did after father went 
off, when there wa’n’t any place for me.” 

“Why, Katy!” 

She was gone, and the young man was 
left to his reflections. She was not ’to be 
seen again by him that evening; and, de- 
spite his explanations and assurances, it was 
several days before their old relations were 
re-established. 

“I mean to earn money for. myself, pretty 


MUST EACH IIIS BURDENS BEAR. 273 


soon,” she said gaily. “I’ve planned ever 
so many things to do with money.” 

“If I had plenty of money, I’d buy a 
piano for my little girl,” said Patsy. “ Then 
you’d make music for us.” 

“Yes; and I’d like the piano; but I’d 
rather live here without it than go anywhere 
else; and Mrs. Richards says it isn’t at all 
strange that I should. She said I ought to 
love you better than I do her; and she told 
me that Mr. Tom would feel real bad if I 
should go away. Do you think he would, 
Aunt Patsy?” 

“Yes, child, yes. We’d all give up, if 
you went off and left us. At any rate, I 
should.” 

A few weeks after, the woman who had 
been acquainted with Mrs. Moran when 
young, and who had never lost sight of her 
child, called at Lion’s Mouth, and asked that 
Mr. Magee would come to her house, as she 
wished to see him upon business. This busi- 
ness had reference to Katy. A bachelor 


274 : THE TEMPTER AND THE TEMPTED 

uncle of Mrs. Moran Lad recently died with- 
out leaving a will, and the woman wished 
Katy to have her share of his property. 

.“I read Mr. Collins’s death in the paper, 
and I wrote to find out about it. Folks 
think lie’s left a good many thousand dol- 
lars ; but Katy never’ll get a cent, nnless 
somebody sees to it. You’ll know what to 
do.” 

“Yes,” answered the young man absently, 
thinking that now the child’s relatives might 
consider it worth their while to claim her. 

Proper measures were taken to establish 
her title to heirship, and, in due time, notes 
and securities to the amount of five thou- 
sand dollars were placed in the hands of 
her guardian, Wilbur Richards. By his ap- 
pointment, made in opposition to the influ- 
ence of uncles, aunts, and cousins, Katy 
Moran’s rights were secured to her beyond 
the possibility of loss. Everything had been 
arranged with the most solicitous regard for 
her interests, and henceforth she would be 


MUST EACH IIIS BURDENS BEAK. 


275 


a burden to no one. Her board was to be 
paid regularly at Lion’s Mouth, where she 
still chose to remain. 

She fancied herself rich, and spent the 
long hours of many a night in considering 
what use she would make of her property. 
There was always a thought of her father in 
his prison-cell ; always the home she pictured 
was shared with him. To save him was the 
one object of her life ; and so strong was her 
desire for his reform, that, at last, she came 
to regard it as certain. 

Yet a feeling of sadness mingled with the 
joy with which she anticipated the days to 
come. There must be a sacrifice on her part. 
One who had served a term in the State-prison 
could never be received by her friends. 
Their home might be far away in some se- 
cluded spot where few 'would care to seek 
them. 

Notwithstanding this, however, she made 
the most of her opportunities for improve- 
ment, studying diligently, and acquiring 


2 76 TUE TEMPTER AND TIIE TEMPTED 

every fanciful art which came under her ob- 
servation. One day, surprised by the pres- 
ence of a piano in the common sitting-room, 
she clapped her hands, exclaiming, “ That’s 
just what I dreamed! Who could be 
so good ? I know, though — it was Mr. 
Richards ! ” 

It was not Mr. Richards at all, although 
she was allowed to believe her own as- 
sertion. The instrument was hired by Tom 
Magee, who claimed the right to do this, as 
also the right to conceal his agency in the 
matter. Then the days went by, if possible, 
more pleasantly; while it would have been 
difficult to determine which of the occu- 
pants of the cottage was most engrossed 
with business. Mrs. Magee was house- 
keeper, and Patsy Quinn went daily to the 
mill. 

Perhaps Patsy sometimes feared that her 
friends were drifting away from her. The 
Magees were not at all what they had been 
when their poverty was greater than her 


MUST EACH HIS BURDENS BEAR. 


277 


own, and they were fain to come to her for 
assistance. Tom was a “rising young man,” 
well dressed, handsome, and atfable. 

All these things she pondered in her 
heart, until she shrank from being seen 
with him as they walked home in the even- 
ing stillness. She would hasten or linger 
that she might be alone. One evening, 
Tom waited for her on the bridge. 

“ I thought you would never come,” he 
said a little impatiently. “ Didn’t you 
see me ? ” 

“Yes,” she answered. “But how did I 
know that you waited for me ? ’Tain’t 
likely you want to walk with such a look- 
ing old woman as I am.” 

“Ain’t it?” he asked, smiling. “I know 
more about that than you do. I’ve heard 
to-day that Duke Moran has been sick for 
a month, and I’m thinking of going to see 
him. It’s three years now since I was 
there, and the man may have changed. 
What do you think?” 


. 278 THE TEMPTER AND THE TEMPTED 

“ Think I’d go,” replied Patsy, forgetting 
herself and her soiled garments. “I’ve been 
expecting something was going to happen, 
and so has your mother. Perhaps Duke 
will die, and, if he was a Christian, I 
shouldn’t be sorry. Ilis life won’t be good 
for much anyway, and, if he was gone, 
Katy wouldn’t have any more trouble 
about him. If he’s sick, I don’t know 
but you ought to tell her. Perhaps she’ll 
w r ant to go and see him.” 

“I’ll go myself first, and see what kind 
of a reception she’ll be likely to meet,” 
was Tom’s reply. “ It will be a shame 
to have such a girl as she is tied to such 
a man as Duke, even if he is her father. 
Ho one could blame her if she never 
acknowledged him.” 

“Ho. But ’twould be pretty hard on 
him if he wants to do better. I heard 
her say, once, she wouldn’t live wdth a 
drunkard anyway, and she means what 
she says; so Duke won’t stand much of a 


MUST EACH HIS BURDENS BEAR. 


279 


cliance with her, unless he turns over a 
new leaf. 

“I’m glad she has decided upon that,” 
said the young man. “I wish every wo- 
man would make the same decision. I 
wonder they don’t.” 

“ I wonder, too,” rejoined Patsy. “But 
then, it’s easier to wonder than it is to do. 
Women always keep hoping for better times, 
and then, if their boys take to drink, they 
can’t turn them off. It wouldn’t be right, 
would it?” 

“I don’t know as it would, Patsy. If 
anybody knows just what ought to be done 
with drunkards, they know more than I do. 
I’m sure, however, that, if I was a woman, 
I wouldn’t live with a drunken husband. I 
wouldn’t live with a drunken wife, and I 
wouldn’t have lived with my father if he 
had kept on drinking. I don’t believe 
’twould have been my duty,” 

“But you used to drink yourself, Tom?” 

“Yes; and, if I had kept on, would it 


280 THE TEMPTER AND THE TEMPTED 

have helped my case if a dozen others had 
gone down to perdition with me ? Not a hit ; 
and that’s why I don’t believe in clinging 
to a drunkard when he’s past all hope.” 

“Who knows when lie’s past hope? I 
guess everybody must make up their minds 
for themselves, and do the best they can ; 
though a drunkard ain’t no more likely to 
reform for having a wife and children to 
abuse. I’ve seen enough of the world 
to know that. But, Tom, there’s lots of 
young men coming on to be nothing but 
drunkards — some of them, too, that think 
a good deal of themselves.” 

“Yes, and there always will be as long 
as Captain Blood keeps his saloon open. 
His reading-room is well supplied, and 
there’s always jolly company there; but he 
is doing more to ruin the young men of 
the city than all the low groggeries within 
its limits. Decent fellows w r on’t go to such 
places as Murphy’s, but the Captain’s is a 
fashionable resort.” 


MUST EACH IIIS BURDENS BEAR. 281 

I 

“Be you acquainted with the Captain, 
Tom?” 

“All I wish to be,” was the reply. “He 
recognizes me as Mr. Magee.” 

What wmnder that a scornful smile over- 
spread the face of the speaker? He had 
visited Captain Blood the day previous to 
this conversation, and been favored with a 
most gracious reception. “Happy to see 
you, this morning,” said the gentlemanly 
rumseller, bowing low to his visitor. “ Take 
a seat and make yourself at home.” 

“ Thank you, but I’m in haste,” answered 
the young man. “ I called to see you upon 
business, and, if you can give me a few 
minutes alone — ” 

“ Certainly, certainly,” interrupted the host, 
throwing open the door of a luxuriously fur- 
nished room, reserved for his most fastidious 
customers. “How, please to be seated, and 
we w T ill talk of business at our ease.” 

Tom Magee accepted the proffered chair, 
and, sweeping back the clustering curls from 


282 THE TEMPTER AND THE TEMPTED 

liis forehead, as was liis w T ont, said slow- 
ly, “ I have called upon you in Mrs. Gay’s 
behalf. She asked me to do so.”’ 

The Captain’s face flushed, and an angry 
rejoinder trembled upon his lips. But he 
w T as politic. Mr. Magee was rising in the 
world, and for this reason he kept silence. 

“ She is very anxious in regard to her 
son, and wishes you to refuse to sell him 
any kind of liquor.” Still no reply. “Will 
you comply with her wishes ? ” 

“Really, Mr. Magee, I don’t see how I 
can consistently. I’m always happy to 
oblige the ladies, but Luke Gay is a man, 
not a boy in leading-strings. His mother 
troubles herself unnecessarily. A most ex- 
cellent woman, but a little overanxious. I 
have the greatest respect for her and for her 
son, who, of course, you know to be a fine 
young man.” 

So soft, so bland, and yet so hard and 
cruel! Tom could have borne anything 
better than this hypocritical sweetness. It 


f 


MUST EACH IIIS BURDENS BEAR. 283 

angered him, and, as lie told Wilbur Rich- 
ards, it would have been a pleasure to 
shake the old fellow till his false teeth rat- 
tled. But of course our hero did no such 
thing. Without withdrawing his gaze from 
the face of his companion, he considered 
what reply should be made. It came at 
length : 

“ Captain Blood, do you know of a more 
contemptible creature on the face of the 
earth than a besotted drunkard ? ” 

“Is it your purpose to catechise me, Mr. 
Magee?” There was just a hint of bitter- 
ness in the tone, but the manner was gra- 
cious as ever. 

“Your remark suggested my question, and 
it is easily answered,” said Tom quietly. 

“ I have no fellowship with drunkenness ; but 
I don’t see what that has to do with the 
object of your visit.” 

“It has everything to do with it,” was 
the rejoinder. “ Luke Gay is fast becoming 
a drunkard, and he drinks his liquor in your 


284 THE TEMPTER AND TIIE TEMPTED 

saloon. Only last niglit, lie was sent home 
from here in a cab. You know about that 
better than I do. Mrs. Gay wishes you to 
prevent this occurring again. Two years 
ago, Luke bid fair to be a useful man; now, 
unless some new influence is brought to bear 
upon him, he will soon go down to a 
drunkard’s grave. He hasn’t the constitution 
to stand what I could. I suppose I might 
drink liquor forty or fifty years, perhaps 
sixty, and still have the breath of mere 
animal life left in me; but Luke can’t do 
this. It would be easy for you to say to 
him that, to please his mother, you must re- 
fuse to sell him any more liquor.” 

“But the precedent, Mr. Magee! The 
precedent! I might be overwhelmed with 
just such requests from women ; and if I 
yield to one, why not to another? I con- 
tend that mine is an honorable business, 
honorably conducted. I keep good liquors, 
and offer them to the public in a fair, hon- 
est way. Ho one is obliged to buy, and 


MUST EACH IIIS BURDENS BEAR. 285 


certainly every man ouglit to know what is best 
for him. I always regret when a man leaves 
my place the worse for liquor he has drunk 
here ; but I don’t consider myself to blame for 
it. You must see how I stand. If I keep my 
establishment, I must sell to those who wish 
to buy. It’s my way of making money.” 

“ Then I must tell Mrs. Gay there is no 
hope for her son ; that as long as he has 
money, you will take it in exchange for 
what will ruin him soul and body. That 
is a plain statement of the case,” Tom Ma- 
gee hastened to add. “If you and I were 
in the street, I should tell you that your 
business is one upon which rests the curse 
of God. Captain Blood, you must know 
this. IIow many noble, pure-hearted boys 
have you seen transformed into vile, loath- 
some drunkards? There are Justin Moody, 
and Webster Gates, and Sam Eastman, and 
Hiram Bowen, and Jay Gerrish. I can re- 
member seeing them come in here many a 
time when I envied them ; but I don’t envy 


286 THE TEMPTER AND TIIE TEMPTED 

them now. It's not often they come here 
now; but here is where they learned to be 
drunkards. For all this wickedness laid at 
your door, put over against it one good 
deed, Captain Blood. Spare Luke Gay to 
his mother. You have boys of your own 
whom you never allow to come into this 
place. You are wise; but your boys will 
grow to be men, and somebody else will be 
making money by selling liquor.” 

Tom Magee had quite forgotten that he 
was -arraigning the lord of the castle within 
his castle walls ; and, indeed, the lord 
seemed, for a little, to have forgotten it him- 
self. He knew that his visitor spoke the 
truth. The five young men whose names 
had been repeated confronted him at every 
street-corner. Occasionally, when, “ by a 
run of luck ” or the mistaken kindness of 
friends, they could command a few dollars, 
they would come in, in the old way, and 
for one evening fancy themselves gentlemen. 
But these visits were becoming less fre- 


MUST EACH IIIS BURDENS BEAR. 287 


quent, and soon they would cease alto- 
gether. A slight movement of his compa- 
nion roused the lord from his reverie. 

“I see we don’t think alike about some 
things, Mr. Magee,” he said, in the same 
tone he had preserved throughout the con- 
versation. “Pm sorry for that; but we 
won’t quarrel about it. You’ve a right to 
your opinion, and I have a license for mine. 
While I keep my saloon open, I must sell 
to those who come. But I’ll have an eye 
on Luke Gay; and I don’t think there’ll be 
necessity for sending him home again in 
a carriage. Won’t you take some refresh- 
ment, Mr. Magee? Iced lemonade or hot 
coffee, sandwich or stew, just as you prefer. 
We get up such things tolerably, and we’ll 
serve you with the best.” 

“ Thank you, but I’ve no need of refresh- 
ment.” 

As the Captain bowed his visitor out, six 
fashionably dressed young men lounged 
down the steps. 


288 THE TEMPTER AND THE TEMPTED 

“ How’s that ? A new customer, Cap- 
tain ?” 

“ Only a business call,” was the reply. 
“ Magee understands business.” 

“ And to think where he came from !” re- 
marked one. “Out of the gutter! To my 
certain knowledge, four tip-top fellow T s ap- 
plied for that place in the counting-room ; 
and Magee never thought of asking for it. 
I don’t see how it happened; though .he’s 
grand-looking, made up on a large scale, 
and shapely at that.” 

Captain Blood was less talkative than 
usual that morning. Making drunkards ! 
Was that a just description of his business? 
Honorable W’as it? So is all crime, and sin, 
and abomination, under the whole heaven, 
honorable. Licensed was it ? So are the 
chambers of death, through which one goeth 
down to hell. 

He knew that a large proportion of those 
who frequented his saloon would become 
confirmed inebriates. There were some of 


MUST EACH HIS BURDENS BEAR. 


289 


cool temperament, strong will, and steady 
nerves, who would settle down into men of 
average goodness when the cares of life 
should press upon them. They would not 
be of the grandest sort, to be sure, but bet- 
ter far than many of their associates. They 
would drink wine with moderation, strong- 
er liquors when occasion seemed to demand, 
and so go through the world, suiting their 
habits to circumstances. 

The rumseller understood this. He knew 
“ which was which ” as he looked around 
upon those who came within his influence. 
He prided himself upon his knowledge of 
human nature, and seldom erred in his con- 
clusions. He knew that he was amassing a 
fortune by robbing others of their choicest 
treasures. 

The curse of God ! God was not in all 
his thoughts, but his boys were dear to him 
as the apple of his eye. lie caught his 
breath with a sigh as he recalled the words 
of Tom Magee. His boys were children, 


290 THE TEMPTER AND THE TEMPTED 

ancl — and — a moment after, lie greeted 
Luke Gay with careless ease. 

Jnst here it may he w T ell to ' follow the 
career of this young man, for whom a wid- 
owed mother wept and prayed. lie was 
her only child; the idol of her heart, and 
the pride of her life. Hot coarse and brutal, 
with gross tastes and appetites, he shrank 
from positive drunkenness. But there was 
a charm in the wine-cup, a fascination in the 
glitter and sparkle which seemed to sur- 
round it, and, ere he dreamed of danger, 
silken meshes, strong as iron hands, envel- 
oped him. 

He was good for nothing in the morning 
until his system was toned up hy stimulants. 
More miserably weak and wretched than 
usual, the day following his excessive de- 
bauch he was impatient for the accustomed 
tonic, and lingered for yet another glass 
after his companions had left the saloon. 

“Have a care, Gay,” said the Captain, 
laughing. “ Be temperate in all things. 


MUST EACH III8 BURDENS BEAR. 


291 


Accidents will happen, but it’s best to pre- 
vent them when you can.” 

“Wonder if lie’s afraid of losing his bill,” 
thought the young man, as he walked 
towards home. “ I must attend to that 
and some other things, as soon as I get rid 
of this outrageous • headache.” 

The bill was settled, “other things” re- 
ceived attention, and a considerable sum 
of money changed hands. . Luke Gay’s pro- 
perty was fast diminishing. Ilis mother 
remonstrated, and, startled by the prospect 
before him, he promised amendment. Tom 
Magee reasoned, urged, and entreated, quot- 
ing himself as an example of what might be 
done in the way of reform. Captain Blood 
refused to sell him more liquor. lie was 
getting too low to be tolerated in such a 
place, and, moreover, he might not be a pro- 
fitable customer. The unfortunate young 
man abstained for weeks, then drank until 
lost to all sense of shame. Again and again 
were these scenes repeated. When his own 


292 THE TEMPTER AND THE TEMPTED 

resources were entirely exhausted, lie ap- 
pealed to liis mother for money, which she 
refused. 

“Never, my son! Never!” she would 
reply to his entreaties. “ All I have I 
would give to save you; but never shall it 
go to the rumseller.” 

A year went by — a year of such trial and 
degradation as can be known only where 
strong drink counts its victims. At the end 
of that time, humiliated by the studied cold- 
ness of his former associates, and over- 
whelmed with mortification, young Gay 
begged for means to commence business in 
some Western city. Most solemnly did he 
pledge himself never to taste of intoxicating 
liquor, or cross the threshold of an establish- 
ment where it was sold. He manifested the 
utmost sorrow for his past course, and 
prayed for his mother’s forgiveness. Under 
these circumstances she consented to furnish 
the funds necessary for his experiment. 
Friends in Chicago were ready to aid him. 


MUST EACH IIIS BURDENS BEAR. 293 

He left liis home, and went forth to make a 
new trial of life. 

God only knows how he struggled and 
how he suffered, how often he was nigh to 
falling, and yet stood erect. God only 
knows how he prayed for strength to endure 
unto the end. He was encouraged by let- 
ters from those who thought of him loving- 
ly. Success stimulated ambition, and there 
was a reasonable prospect that his manhood 
would triumph. 

A few days’ illness made necessary the 
advice of a physician, who prescribed a popu- 
lar tonic, and went liis way, little thinking 
that he had signed the death-warrant of a 
human soul. Strength returned, but with 
it came the old craving for spirituous liquor 
without the admixture of medicinal drugs. 

Like 'an impetuous torrent long re- 
strained, the terrible appetite swept away all 
barriers, rushing straight on to endless ruin. 
Maddened and desperate, what cared Luke 
Gay for honor or friendship, for promise or 


29 d THE TEMPTER AND THE TEMPTED 

pledge? Wliat mattered it, though heaven 
were lost, if only for a few brief days he 
might slake his burning thirst? 

He drank to unconsciousness, then re- 
vived to quaff again the poisoned draught. 
The weeks were brief indeed to him. He 
noted not the lapse of time. Suns rose 
and set, the stars came out and returned 
again to their secret chambers, but to him 
all was darkness. Down, down he went, 
into the very gutters of the great city. 
Friends sought for him in vain, until he 
was arrested for drunkenness. Then they 
cared for him as they would have cared 
for one whose reason was dethroned. So 
securely guarded that escape was impos- 
sible, they watched over him, waiting for 
his better nature to regain its sway. 

Meanwhile, his mother was informed of 
his downfall and subsequent prostration. 
“ Bring my boy home,” she wrote in reply. 
“If there is no hope for him, it is better 
that he come back to me.” 


MUST EACH HIS BURDENS BEAR. 


295 


He came accompanied by one who for the 
time controlled him, but, alas! how changed. 
He had been once a popular young man, 
uow none so poor as to wish for his society. 
Tom Magee visited him with the hope of 
effecting some good, and fancied that his ef- 
forts were not wholly lost. It had not been 
an accident which made Mrs. Gay acquaint- 
ed with this friend, although thus it seemed. 

“ Must I give up my boy ?” asked the 
mother. “Is reform impossible for him?” 

“Hot impossible,” was the reply. “I will 
never believe that there is a depth of sin 
from which one may not with God’s help ex- 
tricate himself, any more than I believe there 
is a limit to God’s power.” 

Luke Gay did not rebel against his 
mother’s commands to stay within the limits 
of their home. With his dog at his side, he 
paced slowly through the garden-walks or 
basked idly in the sunshine. Occasionally 
he would start, as if moved by a sudden im- 
pulse, and then resume his former attitude. 


296 THE TEMPTER AND THE TEMPTED 

Little inclined to conversation, one could only 
guess liis thoughts by the varied expressions 
of his face. 

At length, there was a change. He was 
seriously ill. The family physician was sum- 
moned, and his disease yielded to treatment. 
He had come near to death ; lingered, even, 
at death’s door, when his mother asked if 
something could not be administered which 
would give him strength. 

“ I will think of it,” was the reply of Dr. 
Brainard, as he abruptly went from the room. 
An hour later, he returned with a brother 
physician. They examined the patient, con- 
sulted together, and left without reporting to 
Mrs. Gay. 

She became impatient, and was upon the 
point of sending for Dr. Brainard when he 
presented himself. 

“Have you come to tell me that my boy 
must die ?” she asked quickly. “ It seems to 
me there must be something which would 
give him strength.” 


MUST EACH IIIS BURDENS BEAR. 297 


“ There is, Mrs. Gay. Give your son what 
brandy his stomach will bear, and he will be 
upon his feet in a week. I am as sure of 
that as I can be of the effect of any medicine. 
It is what his system requires.” 

“And is there nothing else, doctor?” 

“ I fear not,” was the response. 

“But, if Luke takes brandy, lie will be 
drunk in the streets as soon as he is able to 
go out. Some one w T ill let him have liquor.” 

“Yes, Mrs. Gay, there is little doubt of 
that. You must decide what is best. I can- 
not take the responsibility.” 

“ Oh ! help me, doctor,” she cried. “ Wliat 
w^ould you do if you were in my place ? I would 
rather see my boy in his coffin than see him 
as I have seen him. Tell me w T hat to do. 
God pity me ! This is more than I can bear. 
In mercy, take the responsibility upon your- 
self, doctor, and act as if Luke was your own 
son.” 

“ I cannot,” answered Dr. Brainard. “ I 
don’t know a parent’s feelings.” 


298 THE TEMPTER AND THE TEMPTED 

“But, doctor, you know — ” 

“I know I was thankful when my brother 
was dead. I cannot say more than that. 
God pity you and help you.” 

“ Try something else for Luke, doctor. 
The next best thing to brandy. How can 
I decide ! I cannot give my boy what I 
have implored him on my knees not to 
drink.” 

Dr. Brainard exerted his utmost skill to 
provide a substitute for brandy ; but the 
system of his patient was so poisoned by 
the use of alcoholic drinks that everything 
failed. 

“ I can do no more, and whatever is done 
must be done soon,” he said, as he turned 
from the sick-room. 

Was ever mother’s heart so tortured ? 
Was ever mother’s love so tried ? “ O God ! ” 

cried this woman in her agony, “ how 
can I let him die ! ” But what would life 
be to him ? She prayed for wisdom ; nay, 
more, she entreated for some visible token by 


MUST EACH ms BURDENS BEAR. 299 


wliicli she might be guided. She went to 
the bedside of her son, bent over him, and 
listened to his short, quick breathing. 

“ Mother, dear mother,” he murmured, 
u I have been such a trouble to you. But 
now I am going to die. The doctor can’t 
do any more for me. I could tell that by 
his looks. Don’t cry, mother.” And he put 
up his hand feebly to his face. It was with 
difficulty that he talked ; yet he could not be 
persuaded to spare himself the effort. “ I’ve 
been your naughty boy, but I have al- 
ways loved you, mother dear. ’Twas the 
drink made me bad ; and I didn’t care for 
it at first. I went to the Captain’s because 
others did, and because everything seemed 
so .pleasant there. Then, when I got to 
going down, I couldn’t stop. Poor, dear 
mother, how much trouble I have made you ! 
When I went to Chicago, I meant to make it 
all up, and I should if it hadn’t been for the 
bitters that doctor prescribed. Yes, mother, 
I do believe I could have kept on if it hadn’t 


300 THE TEMPTER AND THE TEMPTED 

been for that. But, oli ! dear mother, I 
can’t ever tell you how that crazed me. 
And ’t would be just the same again. I 
know it would if I should try ever so hard. 
I wish I had died before then. ’T would 
have been better for us both, mother, dear 
mother. I’ve thought sometimes I might 
get stronger if— ” Here he paused. “ Mo- 
ther, dear mother!” 

IIow he loved to repeat this name, so 
sweet, so full of tenderness and pathos! All 
unconsciously he had answered his mother’s 
questionings. The way was plain before her. 
Hever should lie reproach her with having 
held to his lips the intoxicating cup. 

“ Can you forgive me, dear mother ? ” 

“Yes, my son,” she replied. “I forgive 
you all, and love you as I did when you 
were my darling little boy. My boy ! my 
baby ! Oh ! Luke, how much we might have 
been to each other ! ” 

A spasm of pain contracted the pale brow, 
a shudder convulsed the weak frame, a quick 


MUST EACH IIIS BURDENS BEAR. 301 


gasp, and then again the words, “Mother, 
dear mother ! ” 

“Yes, mother knows it all,” she said, 
forcing herself to calmness. “We won’t 
blame each other.” 

For a few hours, it may be, she held in her 
own hands the life of her son, and fearful was the 
struggle through which she passed. Then, when 
too late, she half-accused herself of his death. 

Friends came and went. There were many 
to offer assistance — some who had been the 
boon companions of Luke Gay in his better 
days, and others whose sympathies had been 
enlisted by his unfortunate career. 

Among the latter was Tom Mage*e, or Mr. 
Magee, as he was then universally known, 
lie knew the trial to which Mrs. Gay had 
been subjected; and, although he would not 
have influenced her in her decision, he felt 
that she had decided wisely. His presence, 
always welcome in the sick-room, was dou- 
bly welcome here, where was required so 
much of strength, gentleness, tenderness, and, 


302 


EACH BEARS HIS BURDENS. 


withal, an intuitive sense of another’s needs. 
It was a rest just to feel the clasp of' his hand. 

The last night of young Gay’s life, he min- 
istered to the necessities of the dying man ; 
striving, also, to inspire the poor, trembling 
soul with something of his own faith in an 
Almighty Saviour. “ His blood cleanseth 
from all sin, and he waits to receive you.” 
Over and over was this blessed truth repeat- 
ed, until the dulled ear heard not, and the 
glazed eye saw not. 

Then somewhere in God’s wide domain 
a human soul, freed from all earthly bonds, 
took its appointed place. Hot you or I, 
dear reader, may say where was this place. 
He who sees from the beginning, and knows 
how strangely blended are our lives, deals 
justly. One who cannot err, separates “the 
tangled web of will and fate ” : 

“ He shows what metes and bounds should stand 
Upon the soul’s debatable land ; 

And between choice and providence, 

Divides the circle of events.” 


CHAPTER VII. 


ALONE WITH GOD, THE GUILTY SOUL DARES 
OFFER NO EXCUSE FOR SIN. 

ET us now return to Patsy Quinn 
and Tom Magee, as they walked 
leisurely up the river path to their 
home. They continued their con- 
versation until they reached the garden-gate, 
when Patsy said abruptly, “You’ll go to- 
morrow ?” 

“Yes,” answered the young man, looking 
down into his companion’s face. “ You are 
more tired than usual,” he added kindly. 

“I am tired,” she replied. “I’ve been 
thinking too much lately.” 

“ And working too hard,” was the re- 
sponse. “I must see to that.” 

“ Seems to me you see to ’most everything,” 
remarked Patsy, with a warm smile. 



304 : THE GUILTY SOUL DARES OFFER 

“No, I don’t,” said Tom. “There’s one 
thing I’ve neglected.” 

Later, lie asked Katy several questions, 
and made some suggestions, in reply to 
which she promised to coax Aunt Patsy to 
stay at home “ a whole month.” “ I’ve got 
money enough for us both,” said the girl. 
“I would divide every cent with her. I 
know she thinks we are all better off than 
she is ; and the other day she told me I 
should soon get above speaking to such a 
plain old woman as she is.” 

“ Ah ! I see wdiat the matter is,” exclaimed 
Tom, laughing. “The old lady is growing 
proud. We must contrive to curb her spirit 
a little.” 

“ Do hear those children,” said Mrs. Ma- 
gee. “What can they find to laugh at so 
much ?” 

“ 0 Aunt Patsy ! Mr. Tom says you are 
growing proud. Are you ?” asked Katy, 
coming into the room, where sat the two 
women, one working while the other rested. 


NO EXCUSE FOR SIN. 


305 


“Proud of what? My hard, brown hands 
and plain dress ?” was the reply. “ Folks 
like me don’t have much to be proud of.” 

There was a root of bitterness in her heart ; 
but the next question claimed attention : 
“ Now, then, aunty, will you just stay at home 
next month, and not think of the mill ?” 

“What should I do here, child?” 

“Wear your new dress, and look like a 
lady. Help take care of the garden, and 
keep me out of mischief. Will you?” 

“ Of course she will,” said Tom. “ I will 
answer for her.” 

In her present mood, Patsy Quinn did 
not quite appreciate her blessings. Despite 
her assertion to the contrary, she was a very 
proud woman; and sometimes, now that her 
friends no longer needed pecuniary assistance, 
she perversely wished that she could go away 
by herself, and resume her old manner of 
living. This unhappy mood had escaped the 
observation of her friends ; but, now that 
their eyes were opened, they would take care 


306 THE GUILTY SOUL DARES OFFER 

that she did not foster such morbid feelings. 
Tom Magee possessed both the kindness and 
the tact to put her at her ease, while she 
would never dream that he had guessed her 
secret. 

The next morning lie went early to his 
business that he might gain time for a visit 
to Duke Moran. And such a visit! The 
sick prisoner was overwhelmed with emotion 
when he announced his name, and the object 
of his coming. 

“I am glad to see you,” was the hoarse 
reply, made after an enforced silence. “ I’ve 
wanted to see you ever since you were 
here, three years ago. You’ve changed since 
then, I shouldn’t known you. I’ve changed, 
too.” 

“Yes, you have changed, Mr. Moran. You 
are not looking as you did when I last saw 
you.” 

“ Ho,” answered the wretched man ; “ there 
ain’t much left of old Duke, except the frame, 
and that’s just ready to tumble down. Tell 


NO EXCUSE FOE SIN. 


307 


me about my little girl,” lie added quickly. 
“ She’s living, ain’t she ?” 

“ Yes, and well.” 

“ Thank God I” These words escaped him 
involuntarily. “Does she ever talk about 
me ?” 

“She hasn’t been allowed to talk much 
about you,” was the reply to this question. 
“But she thinks of you, and loves you.” 

“ Tell me that again,” cried the father. 
“Does Katy love me?” 

“ Yes, she loves you, and prays for you.” 

“ I remember,” said Duke Moran, after a 
severe fit of coughing, which nearly ex- 
hausted his strength. “You told me there 
was six praying for me ?” 

“Yes, we’ve kept on praying all these 
years.” 

“There’s a good many prayers been said 
for me. My wife — I ain’t fit to speak her 
name, but she prayed for me.” 

“And, Mr. Moran, have you never prayed 
for yourself?” 


308 THE GUILTY SOUL DARES OFFER 

“I’ve tried sometimes, but ’tain’t no use. 
I know it just as well as I know I’m in 
prison. There ain’t but one place for such 
as I be when they die. The Bible says 
no drunkard can enter heaven.” 

“But you are not a drunkard,” said Tom 
cheerfully. 

“ I v r as one, and nothing stopped me but 
being shut up here. ’Twa’n’t no good in 
me that I didn’t keep on. I’m just as 
bad as though I had. You see, I’ve thought 
it all over a million times. I liain’t thought 
much else these two years, and it’s ’most 
crazed me. I’ve wanted somebody to tell 
it to, though I knew ’t wouldn’t do any good. 
I’m glad you’ve come. Does Kate know ? ” 

“She knows nothing of my coming. She 
doesn’t know that I have ever seen you.” 

“Does she look like her mother?” asked 
the prisoner. Then before the question 
could be answered, he added : “ Tier mother 
was a handsome girl, and I promised to love 
her and take care of her — promised strong 


NO EXCUSE FOR SIX. 


309 


as words could promise, and then I killed 
her. That's the truth,” he added, after 
another paroxysm of coughing. “ Pin a 
murderer, just as much as though I’d cut 
her throat. I’m glad to say it out loud, 
I’ve thought it so many times. It’s no use 
telling me that my sins can be forgiven. 
Our chaplain says they can, but he don’t 
know about me.” 

It Avas a strange scene. This man of 
stalwart frame, wasted to a mere skeleton, 
in the conflict with remorse and silence, 
now so gladly confessing liis sins. His 
large, dark eyes, deep sunken in their sockets, 
glowed like eoals of fire. His bony hands 
were continually clasping and unclasping. 
There was no rest for the tortured spirit, 
none for the poor, worn body. It may be 
that he did not overestimate when he said 
that he had thought of this a million times. 
At first defiantly, scorning the authority of 
both God and man ; then with stoicism, 
assuming that he could bear his punishment, 


310 TIIE GUILTY SOUL DARES OFFER 

whatever it might be. But now that it 
had come upon him, neither defiance nor 
stoicism availed to shield him from the fierce 
anger of the Lord. 

He had worked until remanded to his 
cell for rest, ^nd then, proud as he was, 
begged to be allowed to return to his labor. 
As his health gradually failed, he concealed 
his weakness ; and it was not until disease had 
fast hold upon him that his real condition was 
known. He was kindly treated as one may be 
whom prison walls enclose; yet this kindness 
was measured by a strict regard to discipline. 

Tom Magee looked at his companion 
pityingly, his heart so full of compassion 
that his own words failed him. “Christ 
died that you might live. lie bore your 
sins in his own body on the tree, and 
now ever liveth to make intercession for 
you. God so loved the world that he gave 
his only-begotten son, that whosoever be- 
lieveth on him might not perish, but have 
everlasting life. You believe the Bible?” 


NO EXCUSE FOE SIN. 


311 


“ Yes,” gasped the prisoner. 

“Then you believe that God is able to 
save to the uttermost all who come unto 
him through Christ. You are one of his 
creatures.” 

“Perhaps I was once, but jou don’t know 
about me,” was the reply. “I’ve gone all 
over my case, and argued it both sides, and 
there ain’t no chance for me. I’ve broke 
every one of the ten commandments, from 
first to last, and I’ll have to take the pun- 
ishment I deserve. I’ll be through with 
this world before a great while, and as for 
another — ” Here the speaker was inter- 
rupted by the terrible cough • which at 
intervals convulsed his frame; and when this 
had ceased, he asked in regard to his child. 
Listening to a description of her personal 
appearance and accomplishments, he seemed 
to forget himself. “ She never’d been as 
she is, if I hadn’t been shut up. She 
ought to be glad I’ve been out of the way. 
Little Ivaty! I wish I was fit to see her, 


312 


THE GUILTY SOUL DARES OFFER 


and hold her in my arms, once before I die. 
IIow come she to live ' with yon ? You 
didn’t use to be very good, and your father 
wa’n’t much better than I was.” 

“You are right in that, Mr. Moran. 
Mould you like to hear how the world has 
gone with me the last six years?” 

“Yes, I should, if you’ve time to tell me,” 
was the hasty response to this question. 

The young man gave a brief outline of 
his life since the day he had taken Katy 
Moran to his home, lingering somewhat 
over the sickness and death of his father, 
that the listener might learn how one sin- 
ner had gained a hope which failed him not 
in the trying hour. 

“I’ve drinked a good deal cf liquor with 
Jim, and you say he expected to go to 
heaven. But he didn’t kill his wife, and 
that makes the difference between us. That’s 
the difference between us, and that’s why 
I can’t be forgiven. And you’ve took care 
of Katy all this time. I’d thank you for 


NO EXCUSE FOR SIN. 


313 


it it ’t would do any good. She’ll be grown 
up pretty soon.” 

“Yes, Mr. Moran. She is thinking of 
that, and she calculates to have a pleasant 
home with her father.” 

This strangely moved the father. Ilis 
little Katy j>roposing to live with him! 
lie had wasted liis strength, wasted his life, 
which was now running to the lees. “ I 
never’ll see outside the walls,” he said at 
length. “ I sha’n’t trouble Katy. There’ll 
be somebody to care for her.” 

“ Yes, Mr. Moran. She has plenty of 
friends, and she shall never want one while 
I live.” 

Warned by the passage of time that he 
must soon leave, the speaker asked permission 
to pray ; which, being granted, t he kneeled 
reverently, while his companion’s burning 
eyes were fixed upon him. His prayer was 
addressed to Christ, the Eider Brother, who, 
having once taken upon himself the seed of 
Abraham, being made like unto his brethren, 


314 


THE GUILTY SOUL DARES OFFER 


being tempted in all points like as we are, 
is able to succor tliem that are tempted. 
Not one thought, or feeling, or wish, or half- 
defined impulse escapes his omniscient eye. 
Not one condition or inheritance of evil, or 
hindrance to right doing, but he knows it 
altogether. 

When Tom Magee knelt, it was as if he 
entered the presence-chamber of this Man, 
Christ Jesus; and the faith which inspired 
his petition waxed stronger as he seemed to 
see the King in his glory. Lower and lower 
bowed the head of the prisoner, and. deeper 
grew his breathing, until his lips parted with 
eagerness. A long sigh echoed the ‘amen.’ 

“And you might been like me?” he said 
wonderingly. 

“Yes, Mr. Moran, I should be a more 
wicked man than you have been, if I hadn’t 
stopped drinking liquor.” 

“ That’s it,” exclaimed Duke, with great 
earnestness. “It’s the liquor makes men 
act so. It’s the devil’s drink, and since I’ve 


NO EXCUSE FOR SIN. 


315 


come here I’ve thought ’twas brewed in hell. 
It’s what fills the prisons and the graveyards. 
Don’t you know it ? If you do, why don’t 
you preach about it ? Tell everybody what 
a curse it is, and tell them so they’ll 
believe it.” 

“ They do believe it now” was the reply. 
“ People don’t drink it because they think it 
does them good. Didn’t you know it made 
a brute of you?” 

“ Yes, and hated myself for it ; but any 
time the first years I was here, I’d drinked 
it if I’d known I’d go to hell the next 
minute. There wa’n’t an hour when I wa’n’t 
crazy for it.” 

“ And now ?” 

“ I wouldn’t touch it. Seems to me I 
should be a little better if I could hear you 
pray every day,” he remarked, coming back 
to the subject from which his mind had 
wandered. “I seemed to feel that prayer, 
Mr. Magee. It touched a spot in my heart 
I didn’t know was there. Won’t you come 


31 G THE GUILTY SOUL DARES OFFER 

again to see me ? And won’t you tell 
Katy that I love her?” Such a wistful, 
pleading look as overspread the man’s face 
as he said this would have moved the 
hardest heart. u Ask her if she won’t- for- 
give me, seeing I’m going to die, and, if 
she’d only write a line to tell me so, ’twould 
make it easier for me.” 

The visitor did not trust himself to speak 
in reply to this, hut a purpose which had 
been gaining strength throughout the inter- 
view was definitely settled. 

The officers of the prison testified to the 
uniform good conduct of Duke Moran, 
giving this testimony in writing. The 
Governor of the State was a relative of Mrs. 
Richards, and before the day had closed 
the first steps had been taken toward obtain- 
ing a pardon for this man. He could not 
long survive under the most favorable cir- 
cumstances, and surely the ends of justice 
would not be subverted by allowing him 
a few days of freedom. Wilbur Richards 


NO EXCUSE FOR SIN. 


317 


volunteered to present tlie matter in its 
most favorable light to the proper authorities, 
and there was little doubt that his plea 
would be successful. 

All this was done without the knowledge 
of Katy Moran, who did not even know of 
her father’s illness. Yet she thought of 
him anxiously. Perhaps, as some assert, 
the tie which holds in sympathy those of 
the same blood cannot be sundered without 
mutual pain. Certain it is that the young 
girl decided to see her father. She w^as 
fourteen years of age, old enough to decide 
some questions for herself; and, although 
she expected . opposition, she believed her 
guardian could be induced to give her 
consent to the visit. 

To her surprise, Mr. Pichards assured her 
that she should see her father within a 
week, and in response to this she asked so 
many questions that the whole truth was 
told. 

“ Oh ! why didn’t somebody tell me bp- 


318 THE GUILTY SOUL DARES OFFER 

fore?” slie exclaimed, when she realized 
how much there was to tell. “And he’s 
coming out of prison to-morrow!” A new 
thought intruded upon her. “Where will 
lie go ? ” 

“Ask your Mr. Tom,” said her guardian, 
“lie is to manage about that.” 

“ Yes, Katy,” answered the same Mr. Tom, 
when asked if it was really true that • her 
father was to be released. “ It is really 

true ; and, if you would like to have him 

come here, I think we can make room for 
him. Aunt Patsy and mother think that 
is the best way, if you would like it.” 

Ivaty shook her head thoughtfully, then, 
after some consideration, said: “I ought to 
live alone with father. I’ve always intend- 
ed to, and, if Mr. Richards will let me spend 
enough of my money, I should rather do so.” 

“But, Katy, your father will probably live 
but a few weeks, and, if you will let me 

judge for you in this matter, I will try 

to consider the best good of all.” 


NO EXCUSE FOE SIN. 


319 . 

“ You are always right,” she replied, 
sobbing. “ But I’m afraid you’ll all get 
tired of father, and — and — ” 

Tom Magee did not attempt to comfort 
her in the way which had proved so effec- 
tual when she was younger, although he 
longed to take her in his arms and tell her 
how gladly he would shield her from all 
care and trouble. He did, however, express 
his sympathy for her, and assure her she 
need have no fear that his patience would 
be exhausted. 

The next morning, she was too much ex- 
cited to take her accustomed place in the 
school-room. Watching the preparations 
made for the reception of her father, she 
went from room to room, giving little assistance, 
and scarce able to restrain her tears. It 
seemed to her that time never passed so 
slowly, and yet when the hour came for her 
father’s appearance she shrank from meeting 
him. She had been told that he was an in- 
valid, yet she was wholly unprepared for 


320 


THE GUILTY SOUL DARES OFFER 


tlie change in his appearance. She remem- 
bered distinctly how he had looked to her 
when she last saw him, and could hardly be- 
lieve it was her father who required the sup- 
port of two men, as he came, or rather was 
borne, into the house. She ran to the gar- 
den, where she remained until Mrs. Quinn 
went in search of her 

“ Come,” said the woman kindly. “ Your 
father won’t rest till he sees you, and its 
little enough comfort he’ll get this side the 
grave anyway.” 

“But, oh! Aunt Patsy, I can’t make him 
seem like father. He ain’t as I thought,” 
replied the young girl, clinging to her friend. 
“I can’t make it seem right.” 

“Have you prayed over it, child?” 

“I’ve tried. But my head aches so, 
Aunt Patsy. I couldn’t sleep last night, and 
I’m so tired.” Here a fresh burst of tears 
interrupted her words. 

Tom Magee came in, and when he said 
quietly, “ I have something to tell you,’ 5 


NO EXCUSE FOR SIN. 


321 


slie repressed her sobs. “I wish to tell you 
how your father received the announcement 
of his pardon,” he continued. 

She was interested at once, forgetting her 
own feelings as she listened. “And he 
thought ’twould be better to die there in 
prison than to come away ! He thought 
nobody would w'ant him outside ! Poor, 
dear father! I’ll tell him there is One who 
wants him and loves him. But you don’t 
know how strange he looks to me,” added 
Katy. “ I’ll go to him this minute.” 

“You must teach him how good it is to 
trust in God’s love,” said her companion. 
“ You taught me that lesson, and you can 
teach him.” 

More the speaker did not trust himself to 
say, but he touched his lips to her forehead, 
and she was comforted by this mute expres- 
sion of sympathy. 

Duke Moran was alone when his daughter 
entered his room. “Father!” This word, 
breathed rather than spoken, thrilled his 


322 


TIIE GUILTY SOUL DARES OFFER 


whole being. lie raised his head from the 
pillow, and attempted to speak in reply, but 
only the ominous cough made itself heard. 
His child was not unlike what he had pic- 
tured, except in a certain nameless grace 
which no language can describe, but which 
he recognized as she bent over him in her 
efforts to relieve his suffering. “It won’t be 
long,” he said, when he could command his 
voice, as though he had already acknow- 
ledged her presence, and now wished to as- 
sure her that he should not long trouble 
her. 

“Father!” Clear and distinct was her 
voice as she pronounced again the word in 
which she acknowledged his rightful claim 
upon her. 

“ Child ! Child ! Have you forgiven 
me ? Tell me that, child !” And the restless 
hands were outstretched to her. 

She -did not say as might another, “I 
have nothing to forgive,” but, laying her 
soft white hands in his, she answered, “ I do 


NO EXCUSE FOE SIN. 


323 


forgive you, father; and I want to do you 
good, every minute of your life.” 

He raised her hands to his lips, then to 
his eyes, where they were bathed in tears. 
Then he withdrew them that he might look 
again into her face. “ Hain’t you no hard 
feelings against me ?” he asked. 

“Ho, father,” she replied tenderly. “I 
only love you and pity you, and I’m more 
glad to have you here than I can tell.” 

“I don’t deserve it, Katy, my Katy. I 
don’t deserve anything but the worst a man 
can get in this world or another. Perhaps 
you don’t know I killed your mother.” 

“ I remember about mother,” she said with 
a sigh. “I know you made her very un- 
happy, but she prayed for you. She would 
tell you that she forgives you, and please, 
father, don’t say again that you killed her. 
It hurts me to hear it, and I want to be happy 
with you.” Truthful, loving Katy! She 
would not seek to make her father’s sin ap- 
pear less than it was, and yet she wished to 


321 TIIE GUILTY SOUL DARES OFFER 

comfort liim. “ Rest, now,” she added, as 
he continued to gaze at her as though long- 
ing to speak. “ To-morrow we will talk. I 
am going to stay with you all the time.” 

“ It’s too much, my child. It must be 
you’re a Christian. It’s only such folks that 
forgive so much.” 

“ Christ forgives more,” Katy made an- 
swer. “ lie forgives all who come to him if 
they’ve been ever so wicked. Remember 
that, father, and please let me go now.” 

lie relinquished her hands, and she went 
from the room, glad to escape his scrutiny. 
All the circumstances of her mother’s death 
outlined themselves vividly in her memory, 
and she knew that her father had not accused 
himself unjustly. Seeming to feel again all 
the desolation of that far-off time, she bowed 
her head upon her hands, and wept with the 
abandonment of a child. At length, recall- 
ing her present blessing, she chided her- 
self for ingratitude, and prayed God to give 
her a right spirit. She would be cheerful, 


NO EXCUSE FOE SIN. 


325 


slie must be cheerful, for the sake of the 
friends who loved her, and, more than all, 
for her father’s sake. Despite this resolve, 
however, it was a pale, sad face which was 
uplifted to Torn Magee as he passed her in 
the hall. 

“She will be happier to-morrow,” he said 
to himself. “ She must have time to be- 
come accustomed to her father,” he said 
directly after to Mrs. Quinn. “ She thought 
she could go away alone with him, but I 
knew she would need all the help we can 
give her.” 

“Tom, do you expect that man’s a Chris- 
tian?” asked Patsy abruptly, without reply- 
ing to the remarks of her companion. 

“If he is, he has no assurance of it,” w r as 
the response. “ITe told me, this morning, 
that he didn’t expect to have his sins for- 
given.” 

“ Of course God will forgive him, if he 
goes to him in the right way. Of course he 
will,” repeated the woman. “When the 


32G TIIE GUILTY SOUL DARES OFFER 

sinner wants forgiveness, and is willing to 
take it as a free gift, seems to me the trou- 
ble’s all over. Duke’s been bad enough ; 
but lie ain’t no worse than a good many 
others. He killed his wife, but there’s wo- 
men that’s had to bear more than she did, 
and wanted to. die when they couldn’t. He’s 
been hard punished, if I’m any judge of 
looks. I shouldn’t known him anywhere : 
and ’tain’t strange he didn’t seem to Haty 

like her father. I tell you what, that child 
♦ 

will grow old a good many years before he 
dies. If I hadn’t come out of the mill, I 
should now. She’s got to be helped 
through tliis, and your mother’s got enough 
to do without taking care of a sick man.” 

“You’re a good woman,” was the answer 
made to these several assertions. 

As had been predicted, Katy Moran was 
happier the next morning. A night’s sleep 
had quite refreshed her, and something 
of her accustomed cheerfulness returned. 
Thanks to Aunt Patsy’s skill in the prepar- 


NO EXCUSE FOR SIN. 


327 


ation of a soothing syrup, Mr. Moran had 
rested tolerably, and was more comfortable 
than he had been for several days. 

“ I don’t see what makes you take so 
much trouble for me,” he said to Tom Ma- 
gee, who assisted him to rise and dress. 
“ You ain’t under no obligation to do for me.” 

“ You are mistaken in regard to that,” 
was the reply. “I am under obligation to 
do all the good I can, and to help every- 
body who comes in my way. All Chris- 
tians are under such obligations. That’s 
what we mean wdien we promise to take 
Christ for our example, and pledge ourselves 
to obey his precepts. Of course, you under- 
stand that, Mr. Moran ?” 

“I don’t know, Mr. Magee. I never had 
much to do with Christians, except my wife, 
till lately; but seems to me they don’t all 
act like that. I knew a wholesale liquor- 
dealer who professed to be a Christian. 
What do you think of him ?” 

The reply which firr* sprang to Tom’s 


323 THE GUILTY SOUL DARES OFFER 

lips was not spoken. A dealer in intoxicat- 
ing liquor, whether on a large or small scale, 
was to him worse than the drunkard, who 
cannot enter the kingdom of heaven. Such 
a man, at best, must dishonor the church of 
which he is a member, and ensure his own 
eternal condemnation. “ I think such a man 
has strange ideas of duty. He is not such a 
Christian as I wish to be.” 

Mr. Moran was quite sure this did not 
half express his companion’s feelings upon 
the subject ; yet he forbore any further remark. 
He was carefully dressed, and seated in a 
large arm-chair, when his daughter came in 
to say “ Good-morning,” and tell him that 
he was looking better. 

“ I am better,” he replied. “ I don’t know 
what Mrs. Quinn gave me for my cough, 
but ’twas better than all the doctor’s stuff.” 

“Aunt Patsy knows just w T hat sick peo- . 
pie need,” responded Katy, with a smile. 
“She is cooking your breakfast now. Will 
you come out and eat with us?” 


NO EXCUSE FOE SIN. 


329 


“ Not to-day, child,” he answered. “ I 
shouldn’t know how to behave. I’ve eaten 
alone so long ; and prison fare don’t require 
many dishes.” 

“ Father, please don’t say any more about 
prison. I want to forget about that. "We’!! 
think you’ve been away somewhere, and just 
come home. Wouldn’t you like that best?” 
In her eagerness, the young girl rested one 
hand upon her father’s shoulder, and looked 
down into his face to assure herself that he 
was not displeased. 

“I should like anything you do,” was his 
reply. “I’ll try and do as you want me 
to.” 

In her presence, there was to be no more 
allusion to the darkest passages of his life. 
But he would be constantly reminded of 
them. The contrast between a prison-cell 
and this pleasant room with vine-draped 
windows was too great to be ignored. He 
could not blot out the record which six 
years of imprisonment had stamped upon 


330 THE GUILTY SOUL DARES OFFER 

liis brain. The breakfast, nicely cooked and 
daintily served, was like nothing which he 
had tasted for years and years. If his heart 
did not go out in thanksgivings to God, he 
was, at least, grateful to those who so gen- 
erously provided for his comfort. 

His daughter was with him most of the 
day, reading or talking as he desired. She 
had grown wiser in many things since she 
sat by the bedside of Jim Magee, and told 
him of God’s love; but the old story was 
the same in its simplicity and sweetness, 
neither gaining nor losing through the lapse 
of time. 

“ That’s all real to you, child,” said her 
father. 

“ Of course it is,” was the reply. “ It is 
just as real to me as it is that you are 
here, and I am glad to have you.” 

“ Being here seems most like a dream to 
me, and I don’t quite understand how it 
happened that you come, Katy.” 

“Why, Mr. Tom brought me first, and 


NO EXCUSE FOR SIN. 


331 


now I stay because it is my home.” But 
for a caution sbe liad received, sbe would 
bave revealed tbe fact that sbe was no long- 
er dependent upon tbe bounty of lier friends. 

Patsy Quinn, not wholly trusting Duke 
Moran even in bis weakness, bad taken occa- 
sion to remind Katy that no good would 
come from bis knowing tliat sbe was worth 
five thousand dollars, adding, “You can tell 
him some time, if you want to ; but now 
you’d better not say anything about it. We 
all think so, Mr. Richards and all.” 

. It bad required Tom Magee’s utmost pow- 
ers of persuasion to induce Mr. Moran to 
come home with him ; yet be did not allude 
to Katy’s small fortune, from which bis sup- 
port was to be provided. Until within a 
fortnight of his death, tbe sick man believed 
himself indebted to tbe friends who never 
wearied of their ministrations. Mrs. Rich- 
ards and her son were bis frequent visit- 
ors; never coming empty-handed, and never 
leaving without having moved bis heart to 


332 THE GUILTY SOUL DARES OFFER 

deeper gratitude. During one of these 
visits, when he had expressed a painful sense 
of obligation, "Wilbur Richards told him 
that he was under obligations to his daugh- 
ter, at the same time explaining how it 
was in her power to meet his expenses. 

“ And you say she wmuld spend every 
cent of it for me, if I needed it!” was the 
father’s exclamation. “ 0 Mr. Richards ! seems 
as though that hurt me more than all the 
rest. I most think sometimes God wdll 
forgive my sins after all. He must be better 
than she is, and she forgives me. I’m glad 
you told me about it, so I can thank her; 
but if I was the same I used to be, ’twould 
be best I shouldn’t know it.” His intellect 
was unclouded, and as he would have judged 
another, so did lie judge himself. “I’ve 
seen the time when I’d took that money, 
and spent it for rum. What a wretch I’ve 
been! It’s best I should die. I might go 
back, though it don’t seem to me I could. 
You’re too good to me; and Tom Magee, 


NO EXCUSE FOR SIN. 


333 


seems to me lie’s ’most perfect. He’s taken 
care of me every niglit since I came here. 
Money can’t pay him for what he’s done; 
but the Lord can reward him.” 

When Duke Moran thanked his daughter 
for her kindness, she answered: “ I am glad 
to do it, father. I’m sure you would do as 
much for me; and we won’t talk about it.” 

There was now but one subject which in- 
terested her, one desire which animated her. 
That her father might feel at peace with 
God, and with himself, was her constant, 
earnest, almost agonizing prayer. He never 
wearied of the sound of her voice; never 
tired gazing into the dear face, which grew 
more beautiful to him with each passing day. 
With her Bible in her hand, she sat by his 
bedside, reading passages in which God’s 
love and mercy are clearly expressed; occa- 
sionally adding some comment or assurance 
that no one who comes to God, trusting in 
the merits of Christ, need doubt of accept- 


ance. 


334 THE GUILTY SOUL DARES OFFER 

“Dear child.” her father would sometimes 
murmur, forgetful of what she talked, and 
conscious only of her presence. At length 
she was permitted to hear him say, “I hope 
my sins are forgiven. I can’t feel sure; but 
I’m willing to trust myself in God’s hands.” 

To greater confidence than this he never 
attained. Yet his end was peaceful. After 
a life of stormy passion and sinful indulgence, 
his body was laid to rest by that of the wife 
whose love he had so outraged. Ilis daugh- 
ter sorrowed for him, although she knew 
his death had been wisely ordered. Sepa- 
rated though they had been for many years, 
she had felt sure that he would some time 
acknowledge her claim upon him. On her 
part, it had been all giving — love, sympathy, 
and assistance ; while he could give in return 
only thanks and loving words. Now, the 
dream and the reality were over. For a few 
days Katy spent most of the time in the 
seclusion of her own room, where her friends 
did not intrude. 


NO EXCUSE FOR SIN. 


335 


“ I’m glad to see you brighten up a little,” 
said Mrs. Quinn, as her favorite came to 
her with a smile. “ It’s been dreadful lone- 
some. We’ve missed you. ’Twa’n’t strange 
you felt bad, child ; but ’twon’t do any good 
to mourn for the dead. They’re in God’s 
hands, and he’ll do right.” 

That evening some one waited at the gate 
for Tom Magee; some one who wished to 
thank him more than any words could ex- 
press. “I feel it all in my heart; but I 
can’t say it.” 

“ Don’t try,” was the response. “ Just 
let me see your face brighten again, and I 
shall be thanked. We have missed our 
Katy. Lion’s Mouth has been a lonely 
place.” 

This young girl had felt keenly the dis- 
grace of being a convict’s daughter. A whis- 
pered remark among her schoolmates had 
often sent the hot blood rushing to her face. 
Her beauty, gentleness, and intelligence se- 
cured her from positive insult ; yet she had 


336 THE GUILTY SOUL DARES OFFER 

often been reminded of lier misfortune. 
Now, death had hallowed this misfortune. 
She would never again blush at the remem- 
brance of her hither. She resumed her 
place in school, more serious, perils, but 
none the less lovable. Older, in fact, by 
many years, for the experience through 
which she had passed, life seemed to her 
more earnest, and duty more imperative. 

It could not be that any one of those who 
had w T atched and waited by the dying-bed 
of Duke Moran could be cpiite the same as 
before. Even Tom Magee, conscientious 
worker as he had been, was stirred by a new 
impulse. He realized more intensely that 
souls were perishing around him, that men 
were degrading their manhood, that women 
and children were suffering tortures worse 
than death, while husbands and fathers 
recked not of the ruin they wrought. 

“ He’s crazy on the liquor question,” said 
one of young Magee’s friends. “ That is 
his only fault, and sometimes I’m not sure 


337 


$ 

NO EXCUSE FOE SIN. 

of that being a fault. lie lias saved many 
from ruin already. How, I never drink a 
drop of liquor, and calculate to give my 
influence in favor of total abstinence; but 
it is a different thing altogether with him. 
lie fights the devil on his own ground, and 
twenty sucli men would shut up all the 
liquor shops in the city, Captain Blood’s 
not excepted.” 

“ I don’t quite understand Magee’s way 
of doing things,” was the reply to these re- 
marks. “ He never makes a fuss. Every- 
thing comes easy to him. His strength is 
unbounded, and his will equal to liis strength. 
Then, his talking is perfectly 'wonderful. I 
have attended a good many prayer-meetings 
just for the sake of hearing him. He is no 
more ashamed of his religion than he is of 
his face. I know of a dozen -young men he 
has persuaded to attend church.” 

“I presume so; and there may be dozens 
of others you know nothing about. Magee 
never boasts of his good works. He is what 


338 THE GUILTY SOUL DARES OFFER 

I call a whole Christian — none of your hypo- 
crites or half-ways, that serve God on the 
Sabbath, and the devil the rest of the time. 
He is made up on a different plan. Every- 
body knows that he will do what he thinks 
right, and say what he feels to be liis duty. 
Nobody is offended with him, not even Lu- 
ther Marshall, who is ready to fight any one 
else who remonstrates with him. Marshall is 
going down fast. Nothing but his money 
keeps him up, and that can’t last long.” 

Luther Marshall was one of Captain 
Blood’s customers, tolerated by this gentle- 
man for various reasons, although he had 
often overstepped the bounds of respectable 
indulgence. Money kept him up, and the 
Captain, taking good care that he did not 
interfere with others, allowed him to come 
and go at plea’sure. 

Eight years before, Luther Marshall and 
Tom Magee were as fir removed from each 
other in position as two boys could well be. 
But now, the former had acquired a repu- 


NO EXCUSE FOR SIN. 


339 


tation wliicli made him the peer of those 
who once scorned him. While the good 
respected him for his upright, Christian 
character, others admired him for his fine 
personal appearance, his manliness, and his 
ability. Gradually, and without effort on 
his part, he had become acquainted with 
many young men wdiose parentage and 
wealth placed them far above the son of a 
poor drunkard. 

It was not in his nature to count this an 
honor. Indeed, our hero cared little for 
antecedents or surroundings ; yet, thankful 
that thus a larger field of usefulness was 
open to him, he received all advances with 
cordial good-humor. Between Luther Mar- 
shall and himself there were some points 
of sympathy. The same spirit of independ- 
ence and impatience of restraint ; the same 
self-reliance and hardihood. True, in one 
these had developed into positive reckless- 
ness; while in the other they but served to 
give vigor and freedom to every well-con- 


340 THE GUILTY SOUL DARES OFFER 

sidered act. If any one could influence 
Marshall, this one was Tom Magee. 

“Ruining myself, did you say ?” asked 
the young man of his friend. 

“Yes,” was the reply. “Don’t you be- 
lieve it? No one can drink liquor as you 
do without being ruined.” 

“I’m not sure but you are right, Magee; 
but the fact is, I’m so used to it, it don’t 
seem to hurt me. We get used to any- 
thing, and I like a free-and-easy life.” 

“So yours is free and easy?” 

“Well, yes; that’s the way I look at it. 
I don’t trouble myself about anything ; take 
the world as it comes, and call it all right.” 

Though this was said with a show of in- 
difference, the listener was not deceived. 
He knew that in the breast of his com- 
panion there yet lingered some hopes and 
aspirations which found not their fruition 
in his present life; and, therefore, he asked: 
“Would you be willing to sit down alone, 
and recall all the events of the past week?” 


NO EXCUSE FOE SIN. 


341 


11 That’s a strange question,” was the 
reply. “I don’t believe in recalling. I 
just push the past behind me, and go 
ahead.” 

“But you can’t do that, my friend.” 

“Why can’t I, if I choose?” 

“Because what has been done in the past 
makes your life of to-day. The habits of 
the last year, or of the last ten years, tell 
upon us fearfully.” 

“ Ten years is a long time to look back. 
I remember you as you were then.” 

“I remember myself as I was then,” an- 
swered Tom Magee. “I was a miserable,, 
dirty, lying, swearing, drinking boy.” 

“ It don’t seem to have much to do with 
you now,” was the quick reply. 

“But it has much to do with me, Mar- 
shall. Nothing but the grace of God 
changed me ; and I need the same grace 
now to keep me in the right way.” 

“Do yon pretend to say that you couldn’t 
reform when you pleased ?” Luther Mar- 


342 THE GUILTY SOUL DARES OFFER 

shall was interested, and waited eagerly for 
an answer to this question. 

“ I do say that God’s grace has made me 
what I am. If I was not a Christian, I 
should be a drunkard.” 

“ You’re a tip-top fellow, Magee, bound 
to go up and make a big thing of living; 
but it seems to me you could have done it 
just as well without so much praying.” 

“ I couldn’t, Marshall ; I am as sure of 
that as I am that we are talking. Perhaps 
you don’t know how hard it is to give up 
old habits. It was months and years before 
I could be surprised in any way without 
being tempted to swear. As for liquor, 
I could let that alone as long as my will 
held firm.” 

“ Of course you could,” Luther Marshall 
hastened to say, without allowing his friend 
to add a qualifying clause to this last re- 
mark. “I could do that myself.” 

Hot long after this conversation, Tom 
Magee was passing Captain Blood’s saloon 


NO EXCUSE FOli SIN. 


343 


late one evening, when liis steps were ar- 
rested bj the sound of angry voices. Just 
then, a young man rushed up the steps. 

u Any trouble down there?” was asked. 

“Yes; Marshall’s crazy drunk, and as full 
of fight as a tiger. Somebody has made 
him mad, and the. Captain’s trying to keep 
peace. There’ll be a row, and I don’t want 
to be mixed up with it.” 

Magee hesitated a moment, then descended 
the steps, and without remark went to the 
room in which he had once spent a most un- 
satisfactory half-hour. There had been hard 
drinking. Hard words had been exchanged, 
and blows were threatened. Captain Blood, 
mindful of his dignity, endeavored to stay 
the confusion. The respectability of his es- 
tablishment was at stake, and he was greatly 
excited. It would have been easy to call a 
policeman, but this would have wounded his 
pride. He caught sight of Tom Magee, and 
without thought of the concession thus made, 
said, “ I’m glad to see you.” 


344 THE GUILTY SOUL DARES OFFER 

“ I came in as Marshall’s friend,” was the 
reply. “ I will take him home. — Come, Mar- 
shall, I am going your way,” he added, grasp- 
ing firmly the young man’s arm. “I am in 
a hurry, and want you to go with me.” 

“ No, you don’t.” A fearful oath ac- 
companied this denial. “I’m going to kill 
Sweeny. lie insulted me, and no man shall 
do that and live.” He struggled to free 
himself from the strong hands which held 
him fast, and, failing to do this, exhausted 
his vocabulary of profane expletives. 

“ Clear the room instantly,” ordered the 
Captain, and this command was obeyed. 

Only Magee and Marshall remained with 
the gentlemanly proprietor of this respectable 
establishment. The rage of the intoxicated 
man was frightful to witness. He gnashed his 
teeth, his eyes glared ferociously, and, save that 
he stood erect, he was like an infuriated beast. 

“ I can manage him,” said his friend, who 
knew that the Captain’s presence was requir- 
ed elsewhere. “Don’t fear for me.” 


NO EXCUSE FOR SIN. 


345 


A long, weary hour succeeded, during which 
Luther Marshall was not allowed a moment 
of inaction. When he ceased his useless strug- 
gles, he was compelled to pace the room con- 
stantly, his companion encouraging or com- 
manding as occasion required. 

“ Now, suppose we go home/’ was said, at 
length. “ The air is getting close, and my 
head threatens to ache. “ Ilow is yours ? ” 

“ Feels like a steam saw-mill with forty 
saws running. Who are you, any way? 
Seems to me I’ve seen you before.” 

“ Pretty likely. You saw Tom Magee to- 
day.” 

“ Oh ! ” exclaimed Marshall, in a tone of 
the utmost astonishment, and then suffered 
himself to be led from the room. 

’ Not another word was spoken until they 
had walked some distance on the street. 
Having been kept upon his feet, Marshall was 
in an entirely different condition from what 
he would otherwise have been ; and, although 
he required some assistance, he was by no 


346 THE GUILTY SOUL DARES OFFER 


means such a burden to his companion as 
might be supposed. 

“ Guess I’ve been in some queer row, 
haven’t I ? ” he asked, when he was near 
home. 

“ There was some danger of a row,” was 
the reply. 

“It was at the Captain’s, wasn’t it?” 

“ Yes.” 

“Well, you’re Tom Magee. I’ve sense 
enough to know that ; but how you came 
there I don’t understand. You don’t be- 
long there.” 

“ JSTo, Marshall, I don’t. I went there to 
help you out of a scrape, and I’m glad to see 
you safe home.” 

“Well, old fellow, I thank you; and, if I 
can ever do anything for you, let me know.” 

“ Will you do it, Marshall ? ” 

“Yes, to the half of my kingdom.” 

“Then abstain from liquor until I see you 
to-morrow evening, and thus do me the 
greatest possible favor.” 


NO EXCUSE FOR SIN. 


347 


“ I will , Magee. I’ll do it if I live, and I 
know what I’m saying.” 

lie knew what he was saying, hut he did 
not know to what he pledged himself. Less 
than twenty-four hours of abstinence could 
surely he borne, and he had given his word. 
Thus he reasoned the next morning, when 
he realized what had transpired. 

He had spoken truly when he said that he 
pushed the past behind him. He gave him- 
self no time for reviewing his life. In fact, 
he was determined to avoid all serious think- 
ing ; and the prospect of spending an en- 
tire day away from his boon companions 
and ordinary places of resort quite appalled 
him. As for reading, this was simply im- 
possible ; and his step-mother and a servant 
being the only persons in the house, he 
could not forget his privations in genial soci- 
ety. He would not trust himself to go into 
the street, lest temptation should prove too 
strong for him and he forfeit his word. For 
this reason he confined himself to his room, 


348 THE GUILTY SOUL DARES OFFER 

pleading a severe headaclie as the reason for 
so doing. 

About noon, there was an interruption — 
a note from Captain Blood, with a bill for 
liquors, cigars, oysters, and sardines. The 
bill first received attention. It was larger 
than he had supposed, and yet he could not 
dispute a single charge. Turning from this, 
he read the note with a lowering brow. The 
note was brief, courteous, decisive, and full 
of regrets. Indeed, it was wonderful how so 
much sorrow could be expressed in such 
limited space. 

Luther Marshall was terribly angry as he 
realized the full import of this note. The 
fashionable drinking-saloon of the city was 
closed to him. He saw himself in a new 
position. “After all the money I’ve spent*' 
there!” he muttered, with an accompaniment 
of oaths. That bill should be settled before 
he slept, though his creditor had begged him 
to consult his own convenience in the mat- 
ter. This necessitated a consideration of 


NO EXCUSE EOE SIN. 


349 


the state of his finances ; 'and the next hour 
was devoted to a rigid examination of long- 
neglected accounts. Figures, which could 
not lie, forced him to the conviction that he 
had wasted much of his substance in riotous 
living. His father had amassed property 
which he had squandered. This was not a 
pleasant reflection with which to beguile an 
idle day. 

At dinner, his step-mother observed him 
closely, but, as she was scrupulously care- 
ful never to offend him, she asked no ques- 
tions. The bill he had received was up- 
permost in his mind. He had not the 
money in hand to pay it, and, as I have be- 
fore said, he dared not trust himself to go 
out. It was not often he asked a favor of 
Mrs. Marshall, but now, after some awkward 
preliminaries, he requested the loan of twenty- 
five dollars until the next day. The money 
was counted out to him, and directly the 
full amount of Captain Blood’s bill was 
enclosed in an envelope properly directed. 


350 


THE GUILTY SOUL DARES OFFER 


The afternoon wore away. Evening shadows 
lengthened, and he waited for the coming of 
Tom .Magee. He had kept his pledge, but 
how much longer he could resist the crav- 
ings of appetite, and endure the torture of 
his quivering nerves, was uncertain. 

“ Well, here I am — what there is left of 
me,” he said to his friend, when . they 
w T ere seated together in his room. “ To tell 
the truth, there is less of me than I thought 
there was. I haven’t ventured outside the 
gate, to-day, for fear of what might happen. 
Captain Blood is getting anxious, and has sent 
me a friendly note. Perhaps you would like to 
read it. Bead it, and tell me what you think 
of it. It seems to me a remarkable piece of 
composition. It is short and to the purpose.” 

“You were surprised at its contents?” re- 
marked the visitor, after reading it. 

“ Yes, I was. I’ve known the Captain do 
a good many mean things, but I didn’t ex- 
pect that. Why, he has made a fortune out 
of such fellows as I am. You know that.” 


NO EXCUSE FOE SIN. 


351 


“ Of course I do, and wonder how such 
fellows will allow themselves to he so duped. 
I expected the Captain would dismiss you soon. 
It is according to his way of doing things.” 

'“Well, Magee, tell me about last night. 
Don’t keep anything hack. I guess I can 
stand it, after what I’ve been through to- 
day. — There is one thing about it,” he re- 
marked, when the story had been told. “ I’m 
glad it was you who came to the rescue, 
not one of those milk-and-water fellows, 
who apologize for everything they do. I 
shall never forget your kindness. What- 
ever becomes of me, Captain Blood won’t’ 
he troubled with my company. When my 
bill is paid, we shall be quits. The money 
is ready for him, when I can find anybody 
honest enough to be trusted with it.” 

Will you trust it with me, Marshall V 
“I would trust anything, even my soul, 
with you,” was the reply to this question. 
“But I won’t ask you to go to Blood’s 
for me a second time.” 


352 THE GUILTY SOUL DARES OFFER 

“I’ll be glad to go for you,” responded 
the visitor. “But I must confess that I’m 
not quite willing to lose my evening with 
you.” 

“ I’m not willing you should,” said Luther 
Marshall. “ You’ll find me here when you 
come back, and I’ll remember that I am 
your debtor for another kind act. Please 
count the money,” he continued, offering 
the envelope in wdiich it was enclosed. 

The money was counted, and Tom Magee 
hastened to the saloon, where the proprietor 
greeted him with some embarrassment, but 
with no lack of courtesy. Here the money 
was again counted, the bill receipted, 
and, without comment from either party, 
the transaction was closed. One step had 
been taken towards the reform of Luther 
Marshall. It remained to be seen whether 
it was the first of a series, or whether, falling 
back, he would sink still lower in the abyss 
of sin. His friend was not oversanguine 
as to the result, and yet did not wholly de- 


NO EXCUSE FOR SIN. 


353 


spair. Somewhat more than a year before 
this time, a young lady to whom Marshall 
was engaged, and whom he loved as well 
as one may love whose whole nature is de- 
based by the use of alcoholic drinks, forbade 
him her presence. She did not remonstrate 
with him in regard to his habits — did not 
warn him of his danger. Too proud to do 
this, she had said, “ Henceforth we must 
be strangers.” Ho one could blame her for 
so doing, yet it had made her lover more reck- 
less. How, as he sat alone waiting for the 
return of Tom Magee, he recalled every 
word, and look, and gesture of Caroline 
Beard as she pronounced his sentence. 

“ Well ?” he said, looking up as his friend 
entered. 

“Here is your bill receipted,” was the 
reply. “You and the Captain are square, 
and I hope you will never owe him another 
cent.” 

“ I never will . , Magee. I would go to the 
lowest groggery in the State before I would 


354 


THE GUILTY SOUL DARES OFFER 


darken his doors. He is a smooth-tongued 
villain.” 

“But there is one thing to be considered, 
Marshall. Ho one is obliged to go to his 
saloon or buy his liquor. It is a matter of 
choice on the part of his customers. He 
would soon close up if he had no trade.” 

“I know that,” said Marshall, a little im- 
patiently. “ But you know as well as I do, 
that the Captain throws out all lures and 
baits. A good many have learned to drink 
liquor in his saloon, who wouldn’t have 
learned anywhere else.” 

“ I know that,” was the reply. “ I am not 
excusing him, but his victims are not wholly 
guiltless.” 

“ You’re a strange fellow, Magee . 1 There 
is no such thing as getting mad with you, 
though you have told me some pretty plain 
truths.” 

“And have come, this evening, to tell you 
more, if you will allow me to do so,” added 
the visitor. 


NO EXCUSE FOR SIN. 


355 


“ Go ahead, old fellow. Anything is bet- 
ter than my own thoughts, and you can’t 
tell me much I don’t know.” Seeing that 
his companion hesitated, Marshall continued: 
“It’s now or never with me. I’m going: 
to the devil without ceremony, or I’m going 
to cry quits with him for ever.” 

It would occupy too much space were I 
to transcribe the long conversation which 
followed. Tom Magee quite exhausted his 
stock of argument, entreaty, warning, and 
remonstrance, appealing to each and every 
motive which is supposed to influence the 
conduct of men. As he talked, he prayed ; 
and thus was he answered: 

“ Bless you, Magee, for what you have 
done for me. If I am saved, I shall owe it 
all to you. If I am lost, God will not hold 
you accountable.” 


CIIAPTEK Till. 


JOYS ARE BET SWEETER FOR THE SORROWS PAST. 

OP two years, tlie lives of the 
family at Lion’s Mouth w T ere 
marked with few incidents. La- 
bors, in season and out of season, 
for the good of others, were so much a mat- 
ter of course that they came to be con- 
sidered a part of every day’s duties. 

Two years more of experience had been 
given to each of this family, and there was 
cause for thanksgiving in the result which 
had been wrought. Mrs. Magee had grown 
younger in thought and feeling, more intelli- 
gent, more cheerful, and more quietly happy. 
Patsy Quinn looked the same. She never 
told her age, although the time had gone 
by when she wished to think of herself as 
having been always old. As it suited her 



JOYS ARE SWEETER FOR SORROWS PAST. 357 


nature to give rather than receive, it must 
he confessed that her present position was 
sometimes irksome. 

Tom Magee had made steady progress in 
all things. lie was a better man, because 
his character was more symmetrically de- 
veloped. He w T as wiser in his plans, stronger 
in his purposes. His salary had been in- 
creased, so that he was able to bestow his 
bounty with a more liberal hand. He was 
still battling for the right, for God and 
humanity, making the old name honorable, 
as he had promised his father he would do. 
Hot “Thomas Magee,” but “Tom,” as it 
always had been, and as it should be to the 
end. “Mr. Tom,” Kate Moran called him, 
although she was quite old enough to lay 
aside this style of address. 

In her advancement, she fully realized 
the expectation of her friends, being “the 
dearest, winsomest girl in the world,” as 
Patsy Quinn was wont to say whenever 
Katy had coaxed her into making .some 


358 


JOYS ARE BUT SWEETER 


concession. “She won’t be turned lierself, 
though. She just makes up her mind, and 
sticks to it, no matter what happens. Some- 
times it seems as though she was just a soft 
little thing you could twist round your fin- 
ger; but you’ll find out the contrary of that, 
if you give her a chance to show it. Folks 
don’t talk much about old Duke now; she’s 
lived that down, and I’m glad of it. Who’d 
thought, when Tom brought her home, that 
things would turn out as they have ? I 
shouldn’t know the old place, it’s so changed. 
I expect Tom will buy it some time, and 
put up a grand house. Then old Pat3y’ll 
be making tracks for a new home.” 

Mrs. Quinn was in a talkative mood; and 
Mrs. Magee, who seldom interrupted her, 
listened smiling. 

“Now, Patsy, what makes you talk like 
that?” she asked, after a moment’s silence 
on the part of her companion. “You know 
Tom won’t let you go away from us, and 
it does seem to me you ain’t quite right to 


FOR THE SORROWS I‘ AST. 359 

feel as you do. There ain’t one of us but 
would work day and niglit for you. I’d 
divide my last crust with you, but it ain’t 
my way to keep saying so.” 

“I know that, Mis Magee ; but it’s pretty 
hard for one like me to live as I do. 
There’s Tom going to be some great man, 
and you are his mother. Katy’s going to 
be a lady, and I’m only old Patsy Quinn, 
that used to take in washing, and do any 
kind of drudgery, just to keep soul and 
body together.” 

“ Aunt Patsy, I am astonished at you ! ” 
exclaimed Katy, coming into the room in 
time to hear these last remarks. “I thought 
this kind of talk was done with.” And the 
loving girl threw her arms about her friend’s 
neck, and kissed the wrinkled cheek. 

.“I suppose it ought to be, child,” was 
the reply. “But it seems sometimes as 
though my heart would break when I think 
of my boy. I dream about him ’most every 
night; and sometimes I hear him call me. 


360 


JOYS ARE BUT SWEETER 


I do believe lie’s alive somewhere in the 
world.” 

Religion had done much for this poor 
woman, but it had not taken all the bitter- 
ness from her life. As she grew older, her 
mind naturally reverted to the past. More- 
over, she anticipated the time when the 
young people who were now so much to 
her would form new ties and assume new 
responsibilities. Her health was less firm 
than it had been, and, consequently, burdens 
pressed more heavily. 

“I guess we all need a vacation,” said 
Tom Magee, that evening, after his mother 
had reported Patsy’s talk. “ I’ve been 
thinking about it; and, now Katy is out of 
school, we might go down to the sea-shore, 
and pitch our tent upon the sands. Wilbur 
Richards and I have talked over the plan, 
and Mrs. Richards has consented to be of 
the party. When Wil and I were there, 
last year, we wondered we had been so 
stupid as to leave our families at home. 


FOR THE SORROWS PAST. 


361 


There haven’t been many vacations in your 
life, mother.” 

“No, my boy, not unless it’s all vacation. 
Now, I ain’t quite sure who I am, some- 
times, when I put on the fine things you 
bring me, and look round the house. I 
never dreamed of having such things.” 

“No matter for that, mother, I’ve dreamed 
enough for a whole family ; and, if all my 
dreams are fulfilled, I shall be the happiest 
man in the world.” 

For a moment, Mrs. Magee seemed look- 
ing through the eyes of her son. She saw 
a fair young girl, with starry eyes and rose- 
bud lips; golden-brown hair, rippling over a 
pure, white brow, and bound in heavy tress- 
es around a shapely head ; a graceful figure, 
outlined against a bit of blue sky. Only a 
moment she saw this. Presently, there 
were two figures, and the bit of blue sky 
glowed in the fading sunlight. 

Patsy Quinn, to whom the two -words 
‘‘ vacation” and “recreation” failed to sug- 


362 


JOYS ARE BUT SWEETER 


gest tlieir true import, could hardly be per- 
suaded to join the party of pleasure-seekers. 
She wished to remain at home and look 
after the garden. Indeed, she made so many 
objections that her friends were sorely tried. 
Tom Magee, however, persevered in his inten- 
tions, and, at last, had the satisfaction of seeing 
her as much interested as he could desire. 

Her childhood’s home had been by the 
sea. She surprised Tom by telling him this 
the night before they were to leave home. 
“It was further down the coast than we are 
going,” she said. “I could manage a boat 
as well as my brothers when I was a girl; 
but I haven’t seen the ocean since I was 
twenty years old. I used to imagine it talked. 
I wonder wdiat it would say to me now. 
It’s like going back, my lad; though likely 
you’ll think me a foolish old woman. I 
never’ll be the same again after I’ve heard 
the waves roar, and seen the tide come in. 
But I want to go; I couldn’t stay away 
now. Tom, do you think my boy’s alive?” 


FOR THE SORROWS FAST. 


363 


“I don’t think,” was tlie reply. “I’ve 
no means of judging. Have you, Patsy?” 

“Ho, my lad, only tlie feeling,” slie an- 
swered. “ Good-niglit.” 

In many ways Patsy Quinn was more 
to Tom Magee than his mother .could be. 
One had influenced him, ' counselled him, and 
exercised a sort of authority over him. The 
other had loved him, and trusted him in 
all things. One would not hesitate to re- 
prove him if she thought him in the wrong; 
the other could not be made to believe that 
he would do wrong. 

Once, when occasion seemed to demand, 
Patsy had said to the young man sharply, 
“Don’t be foolish with Kate. Treat her 
as you would a sister. Wait till she’s grown 
up before you try to make her think any 
more of you than she does now. She’s a 
right to have her own mind.” 

“So she has,” the young man had an- 
swered frankly. “ Thank you for remind- 
ing me of my duty. It is w r ell for me that 


364 : 


JOYS ARE BUT SWEETER 


I have a friend at my elbow to tell me of 
my faults.” 

“Don’t bear me ill-will, my lad,” she re- 
sponded in a tone sufficiently gentle. “You 
know I love you both.” 

u I know you do, Patsy. I bear you no ill- 
will. We are good comrades, as we have 
been since you gave me shelter one dark 
night.” 

He remembered all these things as he 
sat alone after she had left him. She had 
given him a new proof of her confidence 
by entrusting him with the secret she had 
carefully guarded for years, and he resolved 
that she should never want home or friend 
while he lived. 

It was a glorious morning when they 
pitched their tents in the shadow of a great 
rock, and made preparations for house- 
keeping in primitive style. Everybody as- 
sisted in doing this, and everybody 'was in 
jubilant spirits. Mrs. Richards had come 
to please her son, but before night she was 


FOR THE SORROWS PAST. 


365 


as enthusiastic in lier praises of their accom- 
modations as was Katy Moran. They were 
perfectly comfortable, and determined to 
enjoy to the fall every moment of their va- 
cation. 

Fish was to be had for the catching, and 
Patsy, who had not forgotten her skill in 
preparing it for the table, installed herself 
as mistress of the one iron kettle which 
was expected to do duty in such various 
capacities. She could broil fish on the coals 
to a nicety that would tempt an epicure. She 
could bake fish in an oven of her own con- 
struction, and so vary their bill of fare that 
no one tired of the staple article. 

“ She seems to the manner born,*’ said 
Wilbur Richards, after some grand dis- 
play of her ability. “To tell the truth, 
Tom, the more I see that woman, the more 
of a mystery she is to me. Do you know 
that she spends most of her leisure time 
looking off on the sea, as though she was 
expecting her ship to come sailing in?” 


366 


JOYS ARE BUT SWEETER 


“ I do know it,” was tlie reply. . “ Patsy’s 
life lias been a tragedy; and yet slie sel- 
dom betrays the fact.” 

“How long have you known her?” 

“ Since I was ten years old. She lias 
lived at Lion’s Mouth since then, and there 
has never been a time when I didn’t 
heartily like her. That woman is one of 
my dearest friends, and she shall never 
want while I have hands to work.” 

“And do you know anything of her 
son ?” 

“Only what she has told me, and that 
is but little. I fancy he was like his 
mother in disposition and ability. If living, 
he is forty years of age, and a besotted 
drunkard, unless he has reformed. I know 
enough of him to feel sure of that.” 

Just then Mrs. Quinn 'came across the 
sands. She was going to her accustomed 
place of resort, from which she saw white- 
sailed vessels in the distance, and noted 
the varying scenery of the clouds. 


FOR THE SORROWS PAST. 


367 


What said tlie sea to her as it sighed 
and moaned, and murmured? What said 
the waves as they came nearer and nearer, 
foam-crested, gleaming, silver white in the 
sunlight. Was it the requiem for dead 
hopes which she heard, or the prophecy 
of a glad future? Whichever it was, she 
was strangely moved, strangely fascinated ; 
just for the hour, she was a child again. 

A strand of gray hair, swept across her 
face, broke the spell which had bound her. 
In the bitter agony of that return to actual 
life, she had need to remember that “ the 
Lord reigneth,” and that “not a sparrow 
falleth to the ground without our Heavenly 
Father’s notice.” 

Katy Moran went in search of her; but, 
seeing her so absorbed, turned away without 
speaking. Mrs. Magee saw nothing in her 
friend’s conduct to excite curiosity; but to 
the other members of the party she was an 
object of peculiar interest. She did not 
care to sit or walk with them. She gathered 


368 


JOYS ARE BUT SWEETER 


shells merely to throw them hack to the 
waves which had brought them to her feet. 
Yet she was not unsocial or gloomy as 
she officiated in the capacity of cook. Here 
she was perfectly at home, refusing all 
assistance, and laughingly claiming her 
just meed of praise. 

Mrs. Richards watched her closely. Be- 
tween these two there had never been a 
cordial expression of personal sympathy. 
Mrs. Quinn, keenly sensitive to the difference 
in their social position, w r as not easily won 
to frankness. At first, also, Mrs. Richards 
had failed to see the real strength of a cha- 
racter which lacked the refining influences 
of culture and education. A common inte- 
rest had drawn them together; but never 
did the poor woman forget that her Chris- 
tian sister was richly dowered with this 
world’s goods. 

“ I am afraid I shall never win your 
friend’s confidence,” said Mrs. Richards to 
Tom Magee. “I seem to be further from it 


FOil THE SORROWS PAST. 


369 


than I was the first day we met. Then I 
suppose there was but little to win. Under 
some circumstances, Mrs. Quinn would have 
been a magnificent woman. I have a great 
admiration for her.” 

“ I am glad that you have,” was respond- 
ed heartily. “ Patsy — I can't learn to call 
her by any other name — is a constant 
stimulus to me, and yet I have never pitied 
any human being as I pity her. I can’t 
quite express my feelings for her. If ever 
woman was robbed of her birthright, she 
has been; and, if ever woman drained the 
cup of bitterness to its very dregs, Patsy 
Quinn is that woman. Her husband was a 
brute like many others, no worse, but her 
capacity for loving and suffering made every 
sorrow doubly keen. She is as true a friend 
as one can find, the wide world over. She 
stood by me when no man could have done 
for me what she did.” 

“But do you never think that you are 
growing away from her, my friend?” 


370 


JOYS ARE BUT SWEETER 


“No, Mrs. Richards,” answered the young 
man. “ I may have more knowledge of the 
world and of books, but she has the strong 
common sense and intuitive perception of 
what is best that supplies all other defi- 
ciencies. I wish she was rich. Then she 
would do herself something like justice, and 
show the best side of her nature. She 
would adapt herself to the situation more 
easily than you imagine, if she was under 
no obligation to others.” 

Mrs. Richards bowed an assent to this, 
and resolved in some way to come nearer to 
this woman who could call forth such en- 
thusiastic praise.- Even Katy Moran was 
troubled in regard to Aunty Patsy, who talked 
so much less than usual; and the young girl 
.ventured to ask the reason of this. 

“It’s because I have so much thinking 
to do,” was the response. “Don’t mind ine, 
but just go on your own way, and, when 
we get back home, I’ll make up the talk- 
ing.” 


FOR THE SORROWS PAST. 


371 


“But just tell me one thing, Aunt Patsy. 
Are you having a good time ?” 

“ Yes, child, yes. I wouldn’t missed com- 
ing here for anything. I mean to come 
every year.” 

“ And may I come with you ?” 

“Yes, child. Now go to your pleasuring, 
and I’ll look out for the old woman.” 

The vacation was all which had been an- 
ticipated. Many pleasant acquaintances 
w r ere formed, many pleasant memories trea- 
sured. No one of the party would be quite 
the same after this experience. A new im- 
pulse had been given to their lives. They 
had breathed a pure atmosphere, and, look- 
ing out upon the broad expanse of waters 
they had felt their souls quickened and ele- 
vated. 

“ And what said the s6a to you ?” asked 
Tom Magee of Patsy Quinn. 

“It said, ‘Wait, Wait!’ That is what it 
said, my lad, and I am going to wait the 
Lord’s will and the Lord’s time. He’s took 


372 


JOYS ARE BET SWEETER 


care of me so far, and I’m going to trust 
him for the rest. He knows what’s best, 
and he knows what’s going to happen, so 
I needn’t worry about it. I don’t suppose 
lie’s ever disappointed. Do- you, Tom ?” 

“ Not as we count disappointment,” was 
the reply. “ But it seems to me that some- 
times he expects better things of Christians 
than they give.” 

“ It’s a great thing to be a good Christian, 
Tom.” 

“Yes, the greatest and the grandest. To 
do all things for the glory of God, rather 
than for one’s own emolument, and so order 
our lives that others * will take knowledge of 
us that we have been with Jesus. This is 
the Christian’s duty.” 

“Yes, my lad, that’s the way I think, 
though I never could said it. But I can 
say one thing. There’s a good many Chris- 
tians don’t live as they ought to. Ministers, 
too, drinking wine, and making excuses 
for it by telling about the miracle when 


FOR THE SORROWS PAST. 


373 


Christ turned water into wine. I don't 
know but that was such wine as they drink 
in Captain Blood’s saloon, but I don’t be- 
lieve it; and if it was, I don’t believe the 
Saviour would make such wine now.” 

“I agree with you,” said the young man 
earnestly. “ Whenever I hear of a minister 
who finds it necessary to refer often to 
Christ’s miracle in Cana of Galilee, I think 
he needs a new baptism of the Holy Spirit. 
If every professing Christian would heartily 
and consistently oppose liquor selling and 
liquor drinking, the temperance millennium 
would not be long delayed. Compromising 
with this terrible evil, and making apologies 
for it, by those w T lio have promised to live 
in all things as becometh the children of 
God, is one of the crying sins of the 
church.” 

Hot at home only did Tom Magee ex- 
press this opinion. lie lost no opportunity 
for repeating it, urging upon Christians, 
their duty, and stimulating them to earnest 


374 


JOYS ARE BUT SWEETER 


work in behalf of suffering humanity. Wil- 
bur Richards was with him, heart and hand, 
their friendship so strong, and their sym- 
pathy so entire, as to provoke much good- 
natured criticism. Either would count, 
too, in whatever cause he could be enlisted. 

A month had elapsed, after the return 
from the sea, when a visitor appeared at 
Lion’s Mouth. The family were seated 
around the supper- table, plenty within and 
w T ithout. Life was so beautiful, home so 
dear, and hearts so glad. Bread had not 
been broken, when the door-bell was rung 
violently. 

“ I will answer that ring,” said Patsy 
Quinn, rising. 

At the door stood a tall, sunburnt man, 
who looked at her for a moment before 
saying, “ I was told that Mrs. Quinn lived 
here.” 

“ Yes, I am Mrs. Quinn,” the woman 
made answer. 

“Mrs. Patsy Quinn?” 


FOR THE SORROWS PAST. 


375 


« Yes.” 

“ Then you are my mother.” 

Ho wonder that the mother fell senseless 
to the floor. Tom Magee was by her 
instantly, and, pushing aside the stranger, 
raised her in his arms. 

“ I am Holton Quinn. She is my 
mother,” was the explanation given by the 
new-comer. “It can’t be she’s dead?” 

“I think not,” was the reply. And even 
then, through the speaker’s mind flashed the 
thought that it might be necessary for him 
to protect his friend against this man who 
called himself her son. 

Kate Moran, who was first to think of the 
courtesy due to Holton Quinn, asked him to 
enter the house. 

“ Thank you,” he replied, in a choked voice. 
“I didn’t mean to tell her sudden, but I 
couldn’t help it.” Refusing the chair set for 
him, he stood, watching the efforts made for 
the relief of his mother. Occasionally, a 
long-drawn sigh escaped him ; but, aside from 


376 JOYS ARE BUT SWEETER 

this, only his heavy, labored breathing be- 
trayed emotion. At length hei‘ breast 
heaved, and she gasped convulsively. “ Thank 
God !” then ejaculated the man fervently, as 
the hot tears rained down his cheeks. 

His mother glanced around in a strange, 
bewildered way, looking from one to another, 
as though seeking some explanation. Iler 
lips moved before she could clothe her 
thoughts in words. 

Meanwhile, Tom Magee scrutinized the 
face of the stranger, seeking for some re- 
semblance to her he claimed as mother. 

“I dreamed my boy had come/’ whispered 
Patsy Quinn. “Was it a dream, or — ” 

“Mother! mother!” cried the sunburnt 
man, kneeling beside the couch on which she 
rested, “I am your boy Holton, come back 
to live with you. I’ve been wicked and 
cruel and reckless. But I’m trying to do 
better. Will you help me, mother? You 
didn’t quite forget your boy, did you, mo- 
ther?” 


FOR THE SORROWS PAST. 


377 


They were alone. The scene was too 
sacred for intrusion. In an adjoining room, 
there were three who wept tears of sympa- 
thy as they listened to the mjirmuring 
voices of mother and son. They did not 
heed the flight of time. It might have 
been half an hour, or it might have been 
much longer, when a door opened, and Patsy 
called, “ Come here, Tom. I want you and 
your mother, and Katy. This is my boy,” 
she said, as they came at her request. “I 
know he is ; and, Holton, this is Tom Magee, 
and this is his mother, and this is our Katy.” 
In token of friendship, each gave a hand to 
the stranger. “ And, Tom, my boy’s a 
Christian,” continued Patsy. “He says he 
is, and he wouldn’t tell me what isn’t true. 
I want somebody to thank God for his com- 
ing back to me. I want you to pray right 
here.” 

Words of prayer came naturally to the 
lips of Tom Magee, and now from a full 
heart did he offer praise and thanksgiving. 


378 


JOTS ARE BUT SWEETER 


“Amen,” responded Ilolton Quinn ear- 
nestly. And, when they rose from their knees, 
he grasped the hand of his new-tound friend, 
and, looking into the clear, honest eyes, ex- 
claimed: “You’re just the man I wanted to 
find.” 

Patsy Quinn was so happy, so glad, as 
she herself expressed it, that she quite for- 
got the untasted supper. “ My wants are 
all supplied now,” she said, laughing. Then, 
a moment after, turning to her son, and 
pushing back the hair from his forehead, 
she remarked, “I remember just how you 
looked when you bid me good-by. I never 
thought but you’d come back that night, 
and now it’s been twenty-four years. We’ve 
lived a good while since then, my boy.” 

“Yes, mother.” 

To be called “mother” once more was 
enough to repay her for all she had suffered. 
Her face was transfigured with the happi- 
ness which had come to her. 

How long she would have remained obliv- 


FOR THE SORROWS FAST. 


379 


ious to all physical wants, I cannot say. 
Mrs. Magee, however, recovered sufficiently 
from her surprise to be mindful of her 
duties as a hostess. Mrs. Quinn must for 
the time be considered a guest. The supper- 
table was rearranged, and the happy family 
gathered around it. 

“ I don’t want a mouthful to eat,” said 
Patsy. “ Youdl have to put up with my 
ways the best you can, till I get a little 
used to my boy. I should been ’most 
afraid of him, if he hadn’t told me he was 
a Christian. lie liain’t told me much else 
but that.” 

“JSTo, mother, I haven’t had time,” re- 
sponded her son, smiling. “But I’ve a long 
story to tell you when you’re ready to hear 
;t. California miners are great story-tellers.” 

“And have you been a California miner?” 
asked Tom Magee. 

“Yes; I went out among the first. I’ve 
roughed it a good many years. I’ve led a 
hard, wild life; and I shouldn’t come back 


380 


JOYS ARE BUT SWEETER 


now, if it hadn’t been for the hope of seeing 
my mother, and keeping a promise made 
to an old comrade who died two years ago. 
He left a mother behind him when he went 
out, and I promised to find her if she was 
living.” 

“And did you?” asked Mrs. Quinn. 

She has been dead five years ; but I found 
her son and a daughter living in the old 
home down in Connecticut. - I have been 
there two weeks,” added the speaker. “I 
brought enough with me that belonged to 
Bill to set them up in the world.” 

“How did you know where to look for 
me ?” 

“I didn’t know, only I found the wo- 
man that lived next door to us when we 
w r ent off, and she told me that somebody 
see you over here, the other side of tlie^ 
river. So I come on, and begun to look 
round. I reckon I’ve asked a hundred 
times if anybody knew Mrs. Patsy Quinn, 
and never got track of you till to-night. I 


FOR THE SORROWS PAST. 381 

asked a man oil tlie bridge, and lie directed 
me liere; but I didn’t expect to find you in 
such a house as this.” 

“You thought I was a poor old woman, 
and lived in a poor old house,” responded 
Mrs. Quinn, smiling through her tears. 
“Well, you see, here’s Tom getting up in 
the world, and keeps hold of me, so I go 
up with him part way. This is his home 
and his mother’s, and I stay with them.” 

“ There are two sides to that story,” Tom 
Magee hastened to say. “ Sometime I will 
tell you what your mother has done for us, 
and how much we are indebted to Tier.” 

Did they like Ilolton Quinn? This was 
the question which constantly recurred to 
Katy Moran, who was silent while others 
talked. 

But for a certain air of confident assur- 
ance, his manners would have been awk- 
ward. His face was strongly marked. Dis- 
sipation and hardship had left deep lines on 
the broad, high forehead and around the 


382 


JOYS ARE BUT SWEETER 


firm, well-closed lips. He had led a hard, 
wild life, as one well-versed in physiognomy 
would have known at a glance. Yet he had 
a genial smile, which quite illumined his 
rugged face; and, at times, the tones of his 
voice were soft and tender as a woman’s. 

He cared as little for supper as did his 
mother ; and soon both returned to the 
parlor. 

“Do you believe in him?” 

Kate Moran eagerly proposed the ques- 
tion, and Tom Magee replied, “'Yes, I do. 
Do you distrust him ?” 

“ I don’t think I distrust him,” was her 
reply. “But I’m sure he has been a dread- 
fully wicked man.” 

Dreadfully wicked ! This young, pure 
girl could not imagine such depths of degra- 
dation and infamy as those into which Hol- 
ton Quinn had plunged. If his hands were 
not stained with the blood of his fellows, it 
was because an overruling Providence had 
restrained him when rage and hate would 


FOR THE SORROWS PAST. 


383 


have made him a murderer. An .iron con- 
stitution, and, for the last ten years, a life in 
the mountains, where every breeze gave new 
tone and vigor to the human system, had 
combined to preserve him from the physical 
degeneracy incident to a vicious career. He 
was, even now, a man whose strength and 
powers of endurance were wonderful. 

His mother, in her joy, scarcely thought 
of the past, until he asked some questions 
in regard to his father’s death. Then, seeing 
that she did not choose to speak much of 
this, he enquired how she lived. 

“Alone, for years and years,” was her 
reply. “ I hated everybody ; and myself 
worst of all. ’Twas a hard time for me, but 
I was wicked and rebellious, and that made 
it worse. It ’most killed me when you went 
off, though I didn’t blame you for wanting 
to get away. If you’d only told me you 
was going, and let me known where you 
was !” 

“I ought to, mother. But when I went 


384 


JOYS ARE BUT SWEETER 


off that morning, I hadn’t made up my 
mind certain ; and after that — it’s no use 
talking about. Can you forgive me for all 
these years, mother?” 

“Why, yes, Holton. I liain’t had a hard 
thought of you, for so long I can’t remem- 
ber. If Pd been different, you’d been. If 
I’d told you about God and heaven, you’d 
known better than you did.” 

“Yes, mother. But a good many boys go 
wrong that have been learnt all about God 
and heaven. I’ve seen them ; and sometimes 
they’re worst of all; though I’ve noticed 
that, when they get into a hard place, they 
remember and try to pray. That was the 
way with my old comrade, Bill ’ Sanford. 
And I’m just as sure lie was a Christian 
when he died, as I am that you’re my 
mother. Bill and I mated fifteen years; and 
there wa’n’t nothing we kept from each 
other. Poor Bill! ’Twas a dark day for me 
when he died. Don’t blame yourself for 
anything I’ve done,” continued Holton 


FOR THE SORROWS PAST. 


385 


Quinn. “If we’ve found the good way at 
last, we’ll try and walk in it. I’ve got a 
pile big enough to give us what -we want 
for tlie rest of our lives.” 

“You mean you’ve got money, Ilolton?” 

“Yes, or what amounts to the same 
thing. You needn’t do another day’s work 
as long as you live. But how came you to 
be living with Tom, as you call him?” 

“It’s a long story to tell it all, but I’ll 
make it short as I can,” answered Patsy 
Quinn; and then she proceeded to give a 
sketch of her life for the last ten years. She 
related the circumstances of her first ac- 
quaintance with Kate Moran, and thus made 
her son somewhat acquainted with the indi- 
vidual history of each member of the 
family. 

“You found good friends, mother; and 
more shame to me for leaving you as I did, 
when I might stayed and took care of you,” 
was Ilolton Quinn’s comment. “But we’ll 
let bygones be bygones. I’ll try and make 


386 


JOTS ARE BUT SWEETER 


up for it as well as I can; and ’twill be 
strange, mother, if we can’t make something 
of life after all. I’ve got enough, if I never 
add a fip to it.” 

The evening advanced. Tom Magee went 
out and returned, yet still mother and son 
were engaged in close converse. At length 
the man rose to go. It was necessary that 
he should return to his hotel ; but the next 
morning would find him early at Lion’s 
Mouth. His mother watched him from the 
gate until his figure was lost in the darkness. 
Then she entered the house, saying, more 
to herself than to her friends: “It’s all like 
a dream.” 

“It’s all like a story,” responded Kate 
Moran. “I’m just as glad as I can be; but 
that big man has spoiled one of my plans. 
I had a plan about you, Aunt Patsy, and I 
suppose that man has one too.” 

Holton Quinn was not quite sure of his 
plan, beyond a positive determination to 
make his mother’s last days the brightest 


.FOR THE SORROWS PAST. 


387 


and best of all lier life. Her friends lie 
mentally adopted as his own. They should 
share his prosperity. He would find some 
way of assisting Tom Magee, who was, as 
he had said, just the man he wanted to 
find. His mother, too, was such a woman 
as he wanted to find; so strong, so brave, 
so true, that he could not but respect her. 
Had she weakly yielded to her fate, he 
would have pitied and loved her as his 
mother; but now, as a woman, he respected 
her. This to him was great gain, and, with 
new emotions of gratitude, lie thanked God 
for the mercies which crowned his life. 

Early the next morning, he went again 
to visit his mother, who welcomed him 
cordially and affectionately. “ I like you 
better than I expected to,” he remarked to 
her when they were by themselves. 

“ Why, Holton Quinn ! ” she exclaimed. 
“ What do you mean ? ” 

“Mean what I say,” he replied, with his 
rare smile. “ I’ve thought about you so 


388 


JOYS ARE RUT SWEETER 


much the last three or four years, and ima- 
gined you in all kinds of places, that I got 
so I couldn’t remember how you used to 
looked. This morning, you begin to look 
natural to me; and I’m glad you’re just 
such a woman as you be.” 

“ I’m glad if # you’re suited,” answered 
Patsy Quinn heartily. “I’m suited with my 
boy ; so I guess we’ll get along together. 
But what should I done if you’d come back 
bad?” 

“ I shouldn’t come back bad,” was the 
quick response. “I ain’t nowhere near per- 
fect now ; but, if I wa’n’t different from what 
I’d used to be, you never’d seen me.” 

“IIow came you to change?” now’ asked 
the mother. “I know ’twas by God’s 
grace ; but there w’as a way to bring it 
round.” 

“ Yes, mother, and ’twas a strange way 
with Bill and me. "We was shut up to- 
gether twelve days in the mountains, half 
starving and ready to die, and there ..the 


FOR THE SORROWS PAST. 


3S9 


Lord found us. Bill’s mother was a pious 
woman ; and when he was a little shaver she 
made him learn whole chapters of the Bible, 
and some way he didn’t forget them, so but 
what they all come back to him in time of 
need. That was a time of need, I tell you, 
mother. ’Most anybody can die game when 
there’s a crowd looking on, but to be starved 
out like a grizzly in a hole in the rocks is a 
different thing. "We was prospecting when 
a snow-storm come in, and we took to the 
first shelter. We was used to roughing it, 
and we’d look death in the face more than 
once without flinching, but ’twas a tough job 
up there. At first we didn’t count it much ; 
but before we got through we found out it 
meant something. It meant that we’d come 
to the end and got to turn round, though 
we didn’t know it till we’d been there about 
eight days.” 

In relating this strange experience to his 
mother, Holton Quinn passed rapidly over 
it ; but afterwards, when talking with Tom 


390 


JOYS ARE BUT SWEETER 


Magee, lie told in thrilling words liow, one 
after another, all efforts to escape from their 
prison-house failed, until they cried unto 
God for deliverance. 

Up to this time their lives had been of 
the lowest and vilest. They could not only 
outwork, but they could outdrink and out- 
swear their companions, as they often boast- 
ed, and as no one would .have presumed to 
deny. And yet they w r ere not wholly bad. 
Either would have sacrificed his life for the 
other ; and if a comrade sickened, they were 
first to minister to his wants. 

At last, these two men found themselves, 
literally, in a cleft of the rocks ; the falling 
snow fast obliterating every landmark, and 
the cold becoming more intense. Eating 
sparingly of such' food as they carried, and 
wrapping their blankets about them, they lay 
down to sleep, reckless of danger. After un- 
broken slumbers of ten or twenty hours, as 
the time might be, they woke to find it still 
dark, and again composed themselves to 


FOR THE SORROWS PAST. 


391 


sleep. Another waking, and they began to 
realize their situation. 

“ Snowed up!” exclaimed Bill Sanford, 
with an oath, and both groped their way 
about what was now a cavern, until their 
hands came in contact with the yielding 
snow. 

“A warm blanket,” remarked Holton 
Quinn. Seeking to learn the thickness of this 
blanket, he thrust in his arm, then his 
long, stout walking-stick. As this was with- 
drawn, a faint glimmer of light greeted them 
for a moment. They enlarged the aperture, 
and through this saw something of nature’s 
working during their imprisonment. They 
felt also the stinging cold, and decided to 
remain in their present quarters. Walking 
over the newly fallen snow would be im- 
possible. Meanwhile, they calculated their 
chances of living. Their stock of liquor was 
small, and their store of provisions scanty. 
They had often lived on short rations ; but 
here they would soon be reduced to no ra- 


392 


JOYS ARE BUT SWEETER 


tions at all, unless they could get out of that 
hole and run across a grizzly. Then there’ d 
he a chance for a fight, and that was better 
than dying without any chance. Thus they 
talked, emphasizing nearly every word with 
an oath, taking in vain the name of that God 
w T ho held their lives in his hand. 

Their condition was fearful. To men less 
inured to hardship it would have been despe- 
rate. Yet they were not quite despairing, 
even when they began to suffer from the 
cravings of hunger. It was the sixth day of 
their imprisonment when they pushed their 
way again into the world, and, as Providence 
allowed, engaged in a fight with a grizzly, 
in which they won the game. There was 
no longer danger of starvation, but, so far as 
they could see, escape from their perils was 
impossible. They could not retrace the steps 
by which they had reached this point — were 
not even sure of the direction they had 
come. 

More nearly disheartened than ever before, 


FOR THE SORROWS PAST. 


393 


and, truth to tell, more positively free from 
the influence of intoxicating drink than they 
had been for years, they returned to their 
cave, taking with them as much of their 
game as they could carry. They were little 
inclined to sleep. In the gathering dark- 
ness they could not see each other’s faces, 
yet each could feel the beatings of the other’s 
heart. 

Bill Sanford was first to break the silence : 
“"We’ve pulled together a good many years, 
Holt.” 

“ Yes ; and we’ll pull together a good 
many more, Bill. I ain’t going to die yet, 
nor you neither. There’ll be a thaw and a 
freeze, and then we’ll find our way back to 
camp. There’s twenty years more wear in 
us.” 

“And after that, what?” asked Bill San- 
ford, half under his breath. 

“I’ve nothing to do with it,” was the 
reply. “’Tain’t my lookout.” 

“Whose is it, Holt?” 


394 


JOYS ARE RUT SWEETER 


“ I don’t know. Wliat ails you, Bill?” 

“ Nothing, only I’ve been thinking about 
my mother. I dreamt about her last night. 
Poor mother, I’ve made her a good deal of 
trouble. I wish I hadn’t.” 

Ilolton Quinn would have responded to 
this in his usual style, had not some impulse 
sealed his lips. When, soon after, he at- 
tempted a jest in regard to their situation, 
his companion sighed audibly. Another 
attempt was no more successful. “ Out 
with it, Bill,” he exclaimed. “’Tain’t no 
use keeping back.” And this assertion was 
followed with a terrible oath. 

“ Don’t, Holt ! Don’t swear so. My 
mother didn’t allow me to swear, and seems 
as though she could hear. I wish I’d done 
as she wanted me to all through. ’Twould 
been better.” 

The tone in which this was said awed 
Holton Quinn. It was the first time he had 
heard his companion express any regret for 
a life of reckless sinning. a You need some 


FOR THE SORROWS PAST. 


395 


whiskey,” lie remarked, after some hesita- 
tion, because he knew not what to say, and 
the cravings of his own appetite suggested 
this. 

“ That would put the devil into me, Ilolt. 
I know that, and there’s no doubt but I’d 
drink it for all mother.” 

Always mother ! The long night wore 
away. The weather was more mild — a wel- 
come change. The two men talked of it, 
congratulating themselves upon the prospect 
before them. In the midst of this,’ Bill 
Sanford exclaimed: “Holt Quinn, I’m the 
'greatest sinner in the world, and you ain’t 
much better. That’s the truth. It’s been 
coming over me ever since I dreamt about 
mother, and God knows I can’t fight it off. 
Holt, did you ever hear your mother pray ?” 

“Ho,” was the laconic reply. 

“ Then you can’t know how I feel ; but, as 
true as I’m a sinner, I believe my mother’s 
praying for me this minute. I remember 
when I used to kneel down and say my 


396 


JOYS ARE BUT SWEETER 


prayers every night. I couldn’t sleep if I 
hadn’t. Last night they all came back to 
me, and I wanted to say them just as I used 
to.” 

“ Then why didn’t you ?” was asked in- 
voluntarily. 

“I was afraid of you , Holt.” And tears 
stood in the ‘eyes of Bill Sanford as he said 
this. For a moment his companion feared 
that he was going mad, and it may be that 
he understood this, for he hastened to add 
“I know what I’m talking about.” 

The Spirit of God was striving with this 
man, and before night he not only re- 
peated aloud the prayers he had heard at 
his mother’s knee, but he recited whole 
chapters from the Bible. His mother had 
been wise in her selection of Scripture 
lessons. How they impressed him now, 
shut up with only God and this companion, 
who was to him as another self! 

From the first, Holton Quinn had not 
dared to ridicule him, and as day succeeded 


FOE TIIE SOKEOWS PAST. 


39T 


day another was fain to cry, “ I am the 
greatest sinner in the world.” 

On the morning of the tenth day, Bill San- 
ford’s face suddenly lightened as he exclaimed : 
“ God lias heard my prayer and forgiven my 
sins. O mother ! I do believe your boy 
will be saved. And, Holt, too, I can’t 
leave you behind,” he added, seizing the 
hands of his friend in a firm grasp. 
“ We’ve pulled together in the bad way, 
we must pull together in the right.” 

“ What shall I do ? Tell me ?” was the 
response to this. 

Bor answer were repeated what the 
speaker had been taught when he was a 
boy, and which, though forgotten for years, 
now came readily to his lips. At last the 
proud heart was humbled, the stubborn will 
subdued; and, although Holton Quinn felt 
not the ecstatic joy which thrilled his com- 
panion, he trusted in the mercy of God for 
salvation. For forty-eight hours, water 
had been trickling down the rocks, and the 


398 JOYS ARE BUT SWEETER 

great snow-drifts were • gradually sinking. 
Deliverance might be at hand. These two 
men knelt side by side, and prayed, pledg- 
ing themselves, if their lives were spared, 
to live soberly and righteously, forsaking 
all evil habits, and striving for the best 
good of those about them. Then they lay 
down and slept peacefully until the morn- 
ing dawned, clear and cold. They saw at 
a glance that now was the time to leave 
their present quarters. Breakfast prepared 
and eaten in true mountain style, and 
the blessing of God once more invoked, 
.they set out on their perilous descent. Soon 
they recognized their locality, and were 
able to make tolerable progress, reaching 
the mining camp just before sunset. Here, 
after the exchange of greetings, wdiich were 
strangely subdued, they were told that 
Johnny, the youngest of their number, was 
sick unto death. 

“It’s a hard place for him,” said one, 
brushing away a tear which did honor to his 


FOE, THE SOEEOWS PAST. 


399 


manhood. “ He wants somebody to pray 
with him, and not a man here that can do 
it. We’re a set of heathens.” 

Bill Sanford stayed to hear no more. 
The next moment he was kneeling beside 
Johnny, murmuring : “ God so loved the 
world, that he gave his only-begotten Son, 
that whosoever believeth on him might not 
perish, but have everlasting life.” 

“I’ve heard my mother read that,” was 
whispered in reply. “ I’m glad you’ve 
come back, Bill. Can’t you pray ? I’m 
going to die, and I want to go to heaven 
where mother is. Won’t you ask God to 
let me. I’ve been wicked, but he’s so good, 
and I’m so sorry. Ask him to forgive me. 
I’ve tried, but I don’t know how, very well?” 

“ Let us pray,” said the kneeling man 
reverently; and, as his voice was heard, a 
group of his comrades drew near to listen. 
“A parson couldn’t done better,” remarked 
one and another, -wondering at the strange 
occurrence. 


400 


JOYS ARE BUT SWEETER 


Later, wlien Bill explained this, telling 
them of his new experience and new re- 
solves, they uttered no word of ridicule. 
The vilest recognize the necessity of some 
preparation for death, and death was in 
their midst. Moreover, many of these men 
had come from Christian homes, where 
Christian mothers had prayed and wept over 
erring sons. 

“’Twas a different place after that,” said 
Holton Quinn, when recounting the events 
connected with Johnny’s death. “There 
wa’n’t so much swearing and drinking. 
Bill had a meeting every Sunday ; and, after 
a while, we got some Testaments, and the 
men read them a good deal. But ’twas 
tough work letting the drink alone — tough 
for Bill and me that never tried it before. 
It’s the liquor keeps a man ugly.” . 

“True,” answered Tom Magee. “If we 
could banish all intoxicating liquor from the 
world, there would be comparatively few 
crimes committed. All alcoholic drinks 


FOR THE SORROWS FAST. 


401 


stimulate the passions and the natural in- 
stincts, while they deaden the moral sensi- 
bilities and benumb the brain. They 
transform a man into something worse than 
a brute.” 

“You’re right about that,” was the quick 
response. “Anybody that’s seen as much 
drinking as I have knows that every time.” 

Holton Quinn was not certain that a 
settled life would suit him ; but, for his 
mother’s sake, and, it may be, for another’s, 
he resolved to make the trial. lie bought 
the cottage at Lion’s Mouth with twice the 
amount of land then enclosed, and com- 
menced the erection of a spacious house. 
Early in June, the new house was finished, 
furnished, and occupied, so far as two people 
could occupy so many rooms. 

In the furnishing, Katy Moran’s taste had 
been consulted; this young lady selecting 
every carpet, and every article intended for 
ornament. Everything was new, and yet 
everything had a cosy, home look. 


402 


JOYS ARE BUT SWEETER 


“Are you satisfied?” she asked, turning to 
the owner of this house. 

“Yes,” he answered, with a smile. “/ 
am satisfied, and I’m quite sure the little 
woman who is coming here will be. I 
couldn’t done it myself. When you go to 
keeping house, Cousin Kate, I’ll buy the 
fixin’s, to pay for what you’ve done for me.” 

So these two had their secret. There 
was a little woman down in Connecticut 
who exercised a wonderful influence over 
the returned Californian. This woman, no 
longer young, and never beautiful, yet real- 
ized .his ideal. She had been Bill Sanford’s 
favorite sister; one upon whom the burdens 
of life had rested heavily, to be borne 
as only a true Christian woman can bear 
them. 

Patsy Quinn might have divined her son’s 
intentions, but not until told of his proposed 
marriage did she speak of it. Then she 
asked but one question : “ Do you love the 

woman you are going to make your wife?” 


FOR THE SORROWS PAST. 


403 


“Yes, mother, as I love my own soul; 
and I’ll -make her happy,” was his reply. 

“Then, God bless you both!” she said, 
and turned away to hide her tears. 

It was a cpiiet wedding, to which no one 
was Invited. Only the brother and his 
family living in the old home witnessed the 
ceremony which bound together the lives 
of Mary Sanford and Ilolton Quinn. As 
well he might be, the husband was proud 
and happy to introduce his wife to the 
friends who welcomed her to her new home, 
where she was soon the centre of an admir- 
ing and loving circle. 

Katy Moran, whose thoughts for the past 
year had been engrossed with others, now 
thought of herself. She wished to spend a 
year in some seminary,- where she could 
pursue her favorite studies, and acquire 
some accomplishments in which she fancied 
herself deficient. There was no reason why 
thi3 wish should not be gratified, and, before 
the winter holidays, she had won the esteem 


404 


JOYS ARE BUT SWEETER 


of teachers and scholars in one of the first 
seminaries of the country. 

Here she made the acquaintance of a 
cousin, to whom she became strongly at- 
tached, and by whom she was persuaded to 
visit her mother’s relatives, so that she did 
not return to her home until the school 
year had closed. 

During her absence, she had changed 
much. Thought and feeling had matured. 
She was no longer a child, and, warmly as 
she was received, home . was not the same 
to her that it had been. Aunt Patsy, quick 
to note her varying moods, saw this, and 
endeavored to learn the cause. 

“Why, it isn’t my home at all,” said 
Katy, in answer to a direct question. “I 
never thought so much about it until now. 
Everybody else belongs here, but I don’t. 
Mrs. Picliards has some one to care for 
more than me, now Wilbur is married; and 
you, too, Aunt Patsy, I know you love me,” 
she hastened to add. “Cousin Holton and 


FOR THE SORROWS FAST. 


405 


Cousin Mary treat me like a sister, and 
Aunt Ann is good as she can be. Tom says 
lie’s glad to have me here; but I’ve made 
up my mind to go back to the seminary. 
I can pay my expenses by teaching music, 
and I like that.” 

There was another who saw the change 
in this young girl, and, seeing, would not 
put forth his hand to detain her. “ She 
shall have her life in her own way,” said 
Tom Magee bravely. Even when six 
months had elapsed, and he knew she was 
forming plans which would take her from 
them altogether, he said the same. 

To go back, however, ' in my story. Hol- 
ton Quinn was hardly established in his 
new house, when ’ he proposed to his 
mother’s friend to enter into partnership 
with him for the purpose of traffic in an 
article whose uses were not fully under- 
stood, but which was sure to meet with a 
ready sale at large profits. He would fur- 
nish the entire capital, and the terms he 


406 


JOYS ARE BUT SWEETER 


proposed were so liberal they could not 
fail to be accepted. Indeed, Tom Magee 
was glad to engage in more active employ- 
ment, and at once addressed himself to his 
new duties. A short trial proved that the 
profits of the business had not been over- 
estimated, and, under good management, 
it w r as rapidly developed. 

Of course, the junior partner, acting as 
book-keeper and attending to all corre- 
spondence, had little leisure ; yet he still 
found opportunity to do much for the pro- 
motion of every good work. Ilis old 
friends congratulated him upon his prospects. 
Jack Wetlierbee, Robert Morrison, and a 
score of others rejoiced in his good fortune 
as though it had been their own. 

After a time, in the prosecution of his 
business, it became necessary for him to visit 
different parts of the country; and, in a 
thriving "Western town, he encountered 
Luther Marshall. A few days after this 
young man was forbidden to enter Captain 


FOR THE SORROWS PAST. 


407 


Blood’s saloon, lie had started for tlie West, 
resolved to retrieve his name and fortune, 
or die among strangers. 

Upon a tract of land purchased by his 
father, he built a cabin, in which he com- 
menced housekeeping. The very novelty 
of his position charmed him. lie felt with- 
in him the stirrings of ambition. He was 
the best educated man in the township, 
which was being rapidly settled. lie needed 
hard work for the development of his 
physical and mental strength ; and of this 
needed discipline he had plenty. Hot a drop 
of intoxicating liquor had passed his lips 
since the night Tom Magee had assisted 
him to his home. 

At the time of their meeting, he was 
universally respected and trusted. His 
violent temper had been so controlled that 
he was considered a man of rare equanim- 
ity, as, indeed, he was. A good house was 
in process of erection, and he was soon to 
exchange his bachelor quarters for others 


408 


JOYS ARE BUT SWEETER 


more in accordance with his tastes and 
resources. 

He was saved, thanks to the efforts of a 
faithful friend and God’s blessing. He did 
not need to tell this friend how he had 
suffered and struggled. He did not care 
even to speak of his sufferings and struggles, 
lie was looking forward to a future which 
held for him so much of happiness that the 
past was half forgotten. At parting, the 
happy man wished his friend unbounded 
prosperity in all things — riches and an ele- 
gant home, with a wife dear and charming 
as his own would be. 

Within a week from that time, Tom 
Magee called at a young ladies’ seminary, 
and asked to see Miss Moran. He was very 
impatient as he waited for her appearance ; 
yet felt himself amply repaid when she met 
him with extended hands and the exclama- 
tion, “ I’m so glad to see you ! ” 

How her visitor replied to this she was 
never qiyte sure, although he gave abundant 


FOR TIIE SORROWS PAST. 


409 


proof of his pleasure in seeing lier. A blush 
had betrayed her secret; and, folded in the 
arms of one who loved her as few can love, 
she listened to the old, sweet story. “ Of 
all the world, my darling, I would have 
chosen you,” he murmured. 

“ Of all the world I would have chosen 
you,” was the response to which lie listened ; 
and he was sure that with him Katy Moran 
w r ould have her life in her own way. 

All other engagements must now yield to 
this, which was to he lifelong ; and our 
Katy returned to Lion’s Mouth, to be wel- 
comed as a daughter. So Mrs. Magee called 
her, anticipating the event which would 
make her a daughter in very truth. 

Patsy Quinn was delighted. She always 
expected how things w r ould turn out, and she 
took occasion to commend Tom for having 
taken her advice, and “let the child find out 
her own mind. You’ll both of you be 
happier for it ; and, if I’m any judge, you’re 
just good enough for each other. To tell 


410 


JOYS ARE BUT SWEETER 


the truth, I’m so well off .and so glad, that 
it ’most seems as though tilings had happened 
just right always. There’s Holton’s wife, 
now. She ain’t like our Katy; but she is 
a good woman, and I think more and more 
of her every day I live. And as for baby, 
seems as though she was my very own. 

There was but one who expressed any 
dissatisfaction with the arrangements. Hol- 
ton Quinn wished the wedding to be de- 
ferred until a new house could be in readiness 
for the bride. He made such a proposition, 
claiming the right to furnish the house, and 
promising to have it ready for its occu- 
pants at the earliest possible moment. For 
once, however, the senior member of the 
firm found his partner obstinate. The wed- 
ding took place in the same little cottage 
where, as a homeless child, Katy Moran had 
found shelter and care. * 

How that years have passed, the cottage 
has given place to a more pretentious dwell- 
ing ; and Tom Magee holds his house and 


FOR THE SORROWS PAST. 


411 


grounds by right of title-deed, and not as 
tenant. There are baby faces and. baby voices 
within his home, yet never one of all so 
fair, so sweet to him as the face and voice of 
his wife. 

Wilbur Richards, still his friend, knows 
now T to what purpose w T ere the efforts made 
in his behalf. Bat he knows not all. Rot 
until the secrets of all hearts are revealed 
shall the influence of one earnest, consecrat- 
ed life be fully knowm. 

Reither can the influence of an evil life 
be justly estimated until the last great day. 
Reaching on and on through coming genera- 
tions, the curse may fall upon children’s chil- 
dren. Such men as Captain Blood of our 
story — tliej r who claim the right to do as 
seemetli to them best, without regard to that 
higher law which holds all to strict account — • 
have need to pray that upon themselves only 
may rest the judgment of God. 

The honorable liquor-seller amassed a for- 
tune which his boys are fast squandering; 


412 JOYS ARE SWEETER FOR SORROWS PAST. 

and to-day lie knows, by bitter experience, 
how other parents have suffered as their sons 
tarried long at the wine. In desperation, 
he sold his saloon, liquors, fixtures, and pro- 
fitable trade, hoping thus to arrest the down- 
ward career of those he loved. But the 
honorable purchaser was no respecter of 
persons; and, despite the fathers entreaties, 
sold to one as to another. 

His sin has found him out, and his vic- 
tims will 'be avenged. Peace, and happiness 
are not to be purchased with the price of 
blood. 





The National Temperance Society have now published thirty-five 
volumes specially adapted to Sunday-School Libraries, written by 
some of the best authors in the world. These have been carefully 
examined and unanimously approved by the Publication Commit- 
tee of the Society, representing the various religious denominations 
and Temperance organizations of the country, which consists of the 
following members : 

Peter Carter, T. A. Brouwer, Rev. Alfred Taylor, 

A. A.* Robbins, Rev. J. B. Dunn, Rev. C. D. Foss, 

Rev. M. C. Sutphen, Rev. A. G. Lawson, James Black, 

J. N. Stearns, Rev. G. L. Taylor, R. R. Sinclair, 

Rev. William Howell Taylor. 


To Sunday-School Superintendents and Teachers: 

You will probably agree with us that the main hope of saving the 
community from the terrible evils and the widening curse of In- 
temperance lies in saving the young. If the hearts and the habits 
of the children are not established in Christian sobriety, the next 
generation will be worse than the present. This work of enlight- 
ening and instructing the children on this great question of health, 
happiness, and vital religion, devolves largely upon the Sabbath- 
School. 


And it is exceedingly important that the Teachers should add to 
their own personal instructions the circulation of excellent books 
among their classes. Every Sabbath-School Library should contain 
a well-selected collection of books, to set forth the dangers of the 
Intoxicating Cup, and the duty and safety of early abstinence. 

The National Temperance Society and Publication House, under 
the presidency of Hon. William E. Dodge, and the management 
of leading men of all denominations, has issued a series of volumes 
for the young, which we cordially commend to you. 

A Catalogue is herewith enclosed, with the prices attached. Will 
you not endeavor to introduce these excellent volumes at once into 
your Sabbath-School? 


With fraternal wishes for the spiritual success and growth of your 
training schools for Christ. 

We remain, yours in Gospel love, 


Stephen H. Tyng, New York. 
Joseph Cummings, Connecticut. 
J. B. Dunn, Boston. 

C. D. Foss, New York. 
Gilbert Haven, Boston. 

E. S. Janes, New York. 
Address your orders to 


T. L. Cuyler, Brooklyn. 

H. W. Beecher, Brooklyn. 
John Hall. New York. 

W. H. H. Murray, Boston. 
H. C. Fish, Newark. 

J. D. Fulton, Boston. 


J. N. STEARNS, Publishing Agent, 

JS Iteade Street , New York. 



The National Temperance Socieiy are publishing a series of 
Sormons upon various phases of the temperance question, by 
some of the leading Clergymen in America. The following are al- 


rjady published : 

Common Sense for Toung Jtfen. By Rev. Henry Ward 

Beecher I $0 75 

J fora?. Duty of Total Abstinence . Rev. T. L. Cuyler 75 

. The Evil Peasl. By Rev. T. De Witt Talmage 75 

The Good Samaritan. By Rev. J. B. Dunn 75 

Se/f-PeniaTi A Duty and a "Pleasure . By Rev. J. P. 

Newman, D.D., Chaplain of United States Senate 75 

The Church and Temperance. By John W. Mears, D.D ,• 

Professor at Hamilton College, New York ! 75 

Active Pity of a Queen. By Rev. John Hai.l, D.D 7,5 

Temperance and the Pulpit. By Rev. C. D. Foss, D.D. 75 
The Evils of Intemperance. By Rev. J. Romeyn Berry, 75 
Other Sermons will soon follow. 


The National Temperance Advocate . 

The National Temperance Society and Publication House pub- 
lish a new Monthly Temperance Paper, the object of which is to 
promote the interests of the cause of Temperance, by disseminating 
light from every quarter upon its moral, social, financial, and scien- 
tific bearings. The best talent in the land will be secured for its 
editors and contributors. Terms— in advance : Single copy, one 
year, $i ; io copies to one address, $9 ; 20 copies to one address, 
$ 16 ; all over 20 copies, at So cents per copy. 

Hand of Hope Supplies . 

Band of Hope Manual, per dozen SO GO 

Temperance Catechism, “ GO 

Band of Hope Melodies, per hundred 70 00 

Certificates of Membership, “ 0 

Juvenile Temperance Pledges, “ '. 

Pledge and Certificate, combined (in colors), per hundred 

Juvenile Temperance Speaker 

The Temperance Speaker 

Four New Temperance Dialogues 

Band of Hope Badge, plain, $*/ per dozen ; enamelled, 

SI 35 per dozen; silver and enamelled, 50 cents each. 

Illuminated Temperance Cards, sets of 10 each 15 

Illustrated Juvenile Tracts, per thousand 3 00 

The Youth’s Temperance Banner. 

The National Temperance Society and Publication House pub- 
lish a beautifully Illustrated Monthly Paper, especially adapted to 
children and youth, Sunday-school and Juvenile Temperance Or- 
ganizations. Each number contains several choice engravings, a 
niece of music, and a great variety of articles from the pens of the 
best writers for children in America. It should.be placed in the 
hands of every child in the land. Terms — in advance: 


A 


.? 00 
00 
00 
35 
75 
30 


Single Copies, one year. $0 35 
8 Copies, to one address, / 00 

10 “ / 35 

15 “ “ “ / SS 

20 “ “ / “ 3 50 

Address 


30 Copies, to one address, V S\? 75 


40 ki 


i4 

5 00 

50 •»* 

u 

u 

G 35 

100 “ 

1; 

u 

73 00 


J- 


N. STEARNS, Publishing Agent, 

58 Itcade Street , Nciv York- 






























































































































































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